


The Gilded Blue Rose

by virberos



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternative Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Gen, OC as Nero's Mother, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virberos/pseuds/virberos
Summary: A curse shatters the House of Sparda, rulers of Fortuna, with their only hope being a child that would never be. But, unbeknownst to all, a child was conceived days before the curse was laid upon the House.Seventeen years after that fateful day, the gilded blue rose blooms.
Relationships: Kyrie/Nero (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 78
Kudos: 112





	1. A Ride in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyMuzzMuzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/gifts).



> This chapter acts as a prologue. The next chapter will have our eponymous gilded blue rose. 
> 
> LadyMuzzMuzz's A Human Heart was a major inspiration for The Gilded Blue Rose so this fic is dedicated to her.

It was pouring rain. Riding through the darkened Mitis Forest, illuminated only by flashes of lightning, was a large black horse. It’s rider was in stark contrast to the equine, garbed in a white wedding dress. Soaked by rain, the silk cloth clung to her body. The veil was briefly entangled in shaking branches, flying off her braided golden hair. In her hand was a fragile glass rose, it’s blue petals gilded with gold. 

For Cassandra Sagefire, a lost veil meant nothing to her. What was more important was fleeing the looming castle behind her, fleeing from her pursuers who bore the crest of her enemy, the woman who ruined everything, Louella Faye. She had no idea what was going on in the castle and, fueled by adrenaline, she couldn’t afford to care. She just had to flee, to ride her faithful steed to safety.

“She went this way! After her!” She glanced back, hearing distant shouting and armored figures. That had to be them, the armed forces that Louella had brought with her to ruin what was supposed to be a happy day. It may have been a small group of them, at least ten to twelve, but she knew they were trained and armed to the teeth. 

Louella would have asked for nothing less than that. 

“Fly Alasdair!” She commanded as the horse leapt over a fallen log. Alasdair landed in mud, sending brown flying on the impact of hooves meeting the ground. 

“Keep your eye on her! Louella wants her alive!” She looked back with a pant, seeing Louella’s men on horses of their own. Since when did they catch up!? And why would Louella want her alive? To demean her for her attempted marriage to her dead or dying fiancé? Never. She returned her gaze before her, guiding the galloping Clydesdale through Mitis Forest. She had to escape them somehow-

A chorus of wolf howls rang out through the forest. Cassandra noticed the different colored wolves, bounding through the forest with an unnatural swiftness. Of course, like all things in Mitis Forest, they were touched by the demonic energy that emanated from every tree and flower. Some of the pack split off to fight Louella’s men, to snap at the legs of their horses and send them off course into the woods. As much as Cassandra liked seeing them scream as their horses panicked, Alasdair’s worried whinnies were more important.

The road ahead split. She tried to guide Alasdair to the left but the wolves at her own horse’s legs snapped and barked, sending the horse veering to the right. She swore in frustration before her eyes met the too-intelligent eyes of the pack’s leader: the winged Fury. Far larger than the other wolves, almost the size of Alasdair himself, her black wings were pressed close to her pure white flank as she ran beside the Clydesdale. Perhaps the most demonic out of Mitis’ wolves, she knew that the winged wolf was one of Eva’s allies and, by extension, an ally of the House of Sparda. Perhaps she knew of the marriage that was to be, only for the ceremony to be disrupted and her husband-to-be cursed to become a demon and then slain? 

Regardless, if Fury was leading the pack, then she would have to trust her wisdom. She was far smarter than one would expect out of a wolf with wings, perhaps in part to the demonic power that coursed in the veins of the wolf pack. With a nod, she shook the reins of Alasdair to urge him onward down the path. She heard the horses being led off to the left, away from her, with wolfsong echoing in the forest. Fury remained at Alasdair’s heels, occasionally snapping to urge the steed to continue onward and veer him to the left or right at forks in the worn dirt path. 

Cassandra let out a sigh of relief as the forest edge came into view. With that, peering through the trees, she could see a familiar two-story cottage. Attached to the cottage was a small stable for two horses, one for her Alasadir and the other for a steed that Vergil was supposed to ride with her. It was supposed to be their honeymoon cottage, somewhere just for them. But now, with everything gone to hell, such things would never be. Alasdair slowed down, panting from the exertion of riding from Fortuna Castle to the cottage. She dismounted the horse and guided him to the dry stables, not caring if her wedding dress was going to get soiled. What was more important was settling into her new home.

With the Clydesdale fed and resting, she stepped into the cottage. It was pristine and homey, ever since she bought it for her and Vergil. Only they knew about the cottage’s existence, mostly because Vergil didn’t want his brother to drop in unexpectedly. Now, it would be her home. Walking past the kitchen to the master bedroom, she set the glass rose on the bedside table and stripped out of the dress. Replacing the dress with comfy pajamas, she hung it in the closet. Closing the closet door, she walked out to the kitchen to try and prepare some sort of food. Anything to distract her from the crashed wedding. Her mind drifted to a few days before…

_ Cassandra stared down at the paper before her, the vows she would recite to Vergil on their wedding day. It just wasn’t complete yet, despite having a good page of words to tell him how much she loved and cherished him. She leaned back in her cream-hued chair, letting out a frustrated sigh. She heard a knock at the door and glanced up. _

_ “Lady Sagefire?” A voice spoke. Ah, the maidservant. “May I come in?” _

_ “Yeah, of course.” Cassandra scooted the chair back, watching as a maidservant entered. She raised her eyebrow, noticing the royal physician following her. “What brings you here?”  _

_ “I heard you were having nausea in the morning.” The physician said with a smile. “Do you recall your last period?” Cassandra blinked. That was an odd question. She closed her eyes in thought. _

_ “That was...last month. And I haven’t had one since. That’s a bit unusual.”  _

_ “And you’ve been with Lord Vergil the entire time of your stay, correct?” _ _  
  
_

_ “Damn right.” Cassandra shot the royal physician a glare. “And if you’re implying I’ve been sleeping around…” _

_ “Of course not. But I do believe you’re expecting.” Cassandra stared at her. _

_ “Wait, what? No, I…” But her objections died in her throat. She remembered one evening, after one very stuffy ball, she had pulled Vergil away to explore the gardens. One thing led to another...well, if that was the case… “Well shit.”  _

_ “Do you know who the father is-” _

_ “It’s Vergil’s. Without a shadow of a doubt.” She cut off the royal physician. “Don’t tell him. I’ll tell him myself.” The royal physician nodded and bowed. _

_ “Very well, milady. I’ll return when you’re not busy to go over your new lifestyle now that you’re a mother-to-be.” She said and stepped out. The maidservant looked to Cassandra. _

_ “Um, milady, would you like any tea?” She asked meekly. Cassandra stared at the paper before back to the maidservant. _

_ “Yes, I would.” Cassandra nodded, picking up her pen as she added the last touch to her vows. Her, pregnant...she could only imagination the elation on Vergil’s face at the thought of having a little one together. Of course, there would be nurseries to set up, Dante’s teasing to endure, and her new in-laws to notify but all of that would come later. Right now, her and Vergil would have to get married. She glanced at the golden signet ring on her ring finger with a fond smile.  _

_ It wouldn’t be long now... _

Cassandra wasn’t sure how she managed to make a simple meal of beef and greens on a plate without crying into her dinner, but she managed it. She set the plate on the table, despite not feeling particularly hungry. She hadn’t even gotten to the vows before Louella burst in. She hoped that the rush and panic didn’t cause her to lose the newborn, even though it was barely  _ there _ . If she remembered her self-taught research on the human body correctly, at this stage, the baby wasn’t much more than a bunch of cells. But, even still, combined with the news that would never be delivered and her newfound loneliness, she couldn’t help but cling to the new life inside her. 

Cassandra forced herself to eat. She had to eat, to survive. It wouldn’t do her any good to mope around, reminiscing on who she had lost. She had mused over names for their child to be, Aelia for a girl (apparently the name of Vergil and Dante’s maternal grandmother) and Nero for a boy (she just liked how it sounded). She had a nursery to plan and downsize to accommodate for the lack of room and money (while she wasn’t broke per say, she certainly wasn’t the royal-to-be she was before). She would have to have a new surname, to hide her (and her child) from Louella, if she lived by some chance. She would have to procure hand-me-down clothes and furniture, figure out how the hell she was going to get a job, and how to feed herself and Alasdair. She had nine months until her child would arrive, nine months to find a job and get the money to prepare for a new life,  _ a new hope _ , in the world. 

She could do it. She totally could do it. She could, with 100% certainty, do it.

* * *

She can’t do it. She can’t do it anymore.

Cassandra could barely see through the agony of pushing out her child, an agony that only seemed to intensify. 

“Just one more push, ok?” Cecilia Elesion, her closest friend since her arrival nine months prior to the cottage, soothed to the best of her ability. Cassandra turned to the sound of her voice, blinking away the tears to focus on her face.

“I-It hurts...so much…” She sobbed. She felt Cecilia squeeze her hand and weakly squeezed back.

“I know it does. I know it very well.” She paused, glancing up to the midwife. “But just one more push. They’re almost here, so you just need one more push.” Cassandra nodded and took a breath.

“On three…” The midwife began, a familiar phrase to Cassandra at this point. “One...two...push!” Cassandra let out a pained cry as she pushed down, gripping Cecilia’s hand tight enough to (probably) break before an infant’s cry filled the air, followed by a sense of relief. 

“It’s a boy!” Both Cecilia and the midwife exclaimed. Cassandra let out a tired exhale, leaning back.

_ ‘Nero…’ _ She thought, taking deep breaths as the infant’s cries continued.  _ ‘Vergil, I wish you were here to see your son.’ _

“What’s his name?” Cecilia asked. Cassandra took a nearby handkerchief and dried her eyes of tears and sweat, her other hand letting go of Cecilia’s. 

“His name is Nero. Nero Leone Àilleachd. I...I wish his father could see him now.” She murmured. She had made it no secret that the father of the newly-born Nero was no longer with them, as it was technically correct. She had no idea if Vergil lived or died that fateful day. She heard plenty of Cecilia’s sympathies about the matter. She looked to the door, waiting impatiently for Nero’s return. 

“Already waiting to see your son?”

“Of course. It took me forever to push him out.” She huffed. Cecilia laughed.

“I understand. I was that way when Credo was born.” She said. “Enrico was also just as anxious to see him as you are now. But first the midwife has to get all of his paperwork.” Cassandra let out a frustrated sigh before contractions ripped through her.

“FUCK!” She snarled. “What the hell, I just had Nero!” 

“...that would most likely be the placenta.” Cecilia said gently. Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut. As far as she knew, she wasn’t having twins (thank the Earthmother for that) but that still made this final stage of labor not so appealing. She was going to need a nice long soak after this, along with bonding with her newborn son (Vergil would be over the moon, at least internally, at the fact he had  _ a son _ ). She wondered what Nero looked like, he had been whisked away before she could get a good look at him. Did he have anything of her? Of Vergil? Of his grandfather? 

She let out a groan as she felt something slide out of her. It was caught by another wetnurse in the room, to be thrown away. She let out a sigh, aching and exhausted from the labor. How long had it been? Hours? Minutes? The pain made time slow and speed up, it seemed. 

“I need a nap…” She grumbled. Cecilia gently laughed.

“And miss seeing Nero for the first time?” She asked. Cassandra sighed. Cecilia did have a point. She perked up, hearing Nero’s wailing coming closer. Something instinctive reenergized her, all her senses aware to see her new son. The door opened, the midwife walking in with one very squirmy waily black-wrapped bundle in her arms.

“He’s got a set of lungs, that’s for sure.” The midwife said, walking over to her. Cassandra reached out, gently resting a finger against his soft cheek. It was almost like magic how Nero calmed down, opening his eyes and staring at her. 

Those beautiful blue eyes, just like Vergil. He inherited his father’s eyes and stark-white hair. She couldn’t help but smile at him, half from relief that he was here and half from joy. 

“Nero...hello, Nero." She murmured. Nero began to fuss again. “Shh, it’s ok, I’m here, my little lion…” She reached out, letting the midwife help her in getting Nero situated in her arms, her primary concern being getting Nero fed and quiet. His fussing died down as he latched onto her breast, quietly suckling and kneading with his tiny hands (something she found quite amusing). She leaned back, letting the quiet fill the room along with the sounds of paper being moved and things being written down, like his name and weight and all that. 

“Miss Àilleachd?” The midwife asked. Cassandra ignored the butchered pronunciation of her pusdeonym. “Who do you want written down as the father of Nero?” A sharp pang, the fact that Vergil wasn’t here, would never know about his son, snapped her out of the momentary bliss. 

“Unknown.” She said simply. While she may have not heard of Louella ever since that fateful day, she couldn’t risk having Vergil’s name associated with Nero. It was too dangerous, in case Louella was still alive. Cecilia gave her a sympathetic look but said nothing. Cassandra knew anyway: the lack of a father, along with Nero’s white hair, would brand her as a whore and him a whoreson, a bastard. 

She could handle it. She would. What mattered was raising Nero to be a good man, protected and loved with everything she could offer him. And if words were the price to pay to protect him from Louella, then she would gladly pay that price.

Anything for Nero. Anything for her little lion.


	2. Nero

_Seventeen years later..._

“Hey kid! Wake up, it’s time to work hard and get paid!” A familiar scratchy voice squawked. The teenage Nero grumbled, sleepily swatting his hand at the source of the voice. The voice sighed and pulled on his snow-white hair as hard as it could.

“OW!” Nero sat up in his bed, rubbing his head where his hair was pulled.

“FINALLY!” Nero turned, scowling at the avian familiar who had just yanked his hair. The hawk-sized familiar seemed to beam at his work. “Look, you’re lucky it wasn’t Shadow. She just would’ve stepped on your dick until you woke up.”

“Don’t do that again Griffon.” Nero grumbled, swinging his legs over his bed and standing up. “That hurt.” 

“I bet getting your dick stomped on by the big bad kitty wouldn’t be any better.” Griffon huffed as Nero opened the window to let the morning air in. He heard Griffon hop across his bed before flapping next to him. “Bet that one chick you like so much w-” Nero instinctively grabbed Griffon and tossed him out the window, earning a fading yell from the familiar as he soared away. He didn’t particularly like it when Griffon talked about Kyrie, but he always spoke about her so...crassly! And having his crush on her be talked about so openly embarrassed him. 

He walked away from the window. There wasn’t much point in mulling over it. He could already see Griffon flying back to the cottage, huffier now that he was tossed so unceremoniously out the window. Nero opened the hand-me-down dresser, one of many hand-me-downs from the Elesions. Him and his mother, Cassandra, had always been poor. They always had just enough to feed him, her, and their two horses Alasdair and Altare (even Altare was a hand-me-down from the horse ranch his mother worked at on the other side of Fortuna, a surrender from his old owner). When he was able, he too helped with keeping the lights on with whatever odd jobs he could scrounge up from gathering recyclables from the trashcans of Fortuna (he hated it but it was good money, if he got a good enough haul) to learning how to repair things himself (something he was far better at). In fact, he had just learned about another opportunity to earn money: selling demon parts from Mitis Forest to the Alchemist’s Guild, where the royal alchemist Agnus oversaw. Already, he had what he could salvage as useful (demon cores, wings, and limbs) to bring to the Alchemist’s Guild. 

“Nero!” His mother’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “You awake?”

“Yeah mom!” He yelled back, diving into the dresser to pull out his clothes. He quickly got dressed, throwing on pants, boots, a deep azure shirt, and a purple overcoat. Throwing on a scarf (his mother had recycled the remaining material from making the overcoat into a scarf), he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. 

He smiled as the scent of chicken reached his nose. It was obvious where Shadow was. The demonic panther had settled herself right next to his mother, Cassandra, eagerly awaiting whatever she would drop. Cassandra was at the oven, glancing at a well-worn cookbook (perhaps another thing from Cecilia?) as she oversaw breakfast. If Shadow wasn’t with him, then she was with her, eagerly awaiting a piece of chicken. 

“Now now Shadow. This isn’t for you, it’s for Nero to take with him to Fortuna.” She gently chided. Shadow let out another louder and needier meow, reaching up to gently bap at her skirt. “Shadow!” 

“Morning Mom.” Nero said, walking over to her. Cassandra looked back and smiled at him.

“Good morning Nero. I’m making breakfast to go for you, since you got stuff to do in Fortuna.” She said. She pointed to the propped up cookbook. “Cecilia let me borrow this cookbook from the mainland, it’s got meals that can be made to go!” Nero leaned over her shoulder to see. “Ah, I still remember when you were a little boy, able to ride on Shadow’s back with ease.” 

“I’m not seven anymore, Mom.” She let out a sigh at that.

“I know. But can’t your mother dote on you for a little longer, little lion?” She teased him. Nero’s face flushed at that. 

“Moom…”

“Awww, cuuute.” Griffon teased as he settled on the nearby perch. “Come on, fluster him some more!” 

“No Griffon, I’m not doing that.” Cassandra returned her attention to the oven. “Breakfast still needs to be made.” 

“Speaking of breakfast, what is it?” Nero asked. 

“Chicken crepes, full of cheese and veggies for my growing boy.” She gave him a playful but pointed look. “I don’t care that you’re seventeen, you’re still growing.” 

“Yes moom…” Nero rubbed the back of his neck. Cassandra laughed and finished one of the crepes, wrapping it up in wax paper before making a second. She began to hum as she cooked, a familiar song to the young man: one of her many lullabies. Nero was too old for lullabies (or so he told himself) but he always liked hearing his mother sing. Shadow let out a needy whine, continuing to paw at her skirt for food. “I think Shadow’s hungry.”

“Shadow can’t use her big wide eyes on me. She tried for seventeen years.” Cassandra pointed out as she continued to cook. “Is everything in the cart?”

“Yep.” Nero nodded. Cassandra smiled at him. “Do you need anything from Fortuna?” 

“Only for you to drop off the last cookbook back at the Elesions. Cecilia’s been asking quite patiently to have her cookbook back.” Cassandra pointed to a carefully wrapped package, the borrowed cookbook, on the side table. Nero nodded as he went to pick up the package. The Elesion’s Bakery wasn’t too far from their cottage, a quick pit-stop along the way to the Alchemist’s Guild. Knowing her, she would give him some freshly-baked bread for the journey despite his objections. “Nero?”

“Hm?” Nero looked to his mother, watching as she wrapped the second crepe in wax paper. She put the two in a paper bag and handed it to him, followed by a kiss on the cheek. Nero made an overexaggerated face. “Moom!”

“What? I can’t spoil my little lion?” Cassandra teased.

“I’m not little anymore. I’m taller than you!” He pointed out. He had a growth spurt when he was around fourteen, which made him taller than his own mother! Not that she minded. Cassandra crossed her arms.

“And? I’m still your mother and I will spoil my little lion rotten.” She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Griffon cackled from his place at the window, earning a flushed face and awkward nose rubbing from the young man. “Alright alright, I’ll leave you to prepare to head to Fortuna. Stay safe, Nero.” She said, walking back to the oven to cook her own breakfast. 

“Alright. Bye Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too Nero.” With that, Nero stepped out of the cottage. He walked around the perimeter of the cottage to the stables, placing the wrapped-up book and his breakfast atop the two boxes of demon parts for the Alchemist’s Guild. He walked over to the door of Altare and opened it, leading the workhorse out to hitch him up to the cart. He heard Griffon fly over and settle on the edge of the cart, Shadow padding after him.

“Ahh, felt like old times.” He looked to Shadow, who jumped into the cart. “Remember back when Nero was a little grubling? He just wailed and wailed and _wailed_ until Cass took care of him!” Shadow let out a sort of affirmative chuff. “I do not miss those days.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Nero said dryly, fastening the bridle. “Come on Altare.” The workhorse began to move, dragging the cart away from the cottage and towards Fortuna. 

The Castle Town of Fortuna was a fifteen minute walk from the cottage they called home to the edge of the town. In the early morning, there wasn’t much foot traffic for him to worry about. Altare didn’t like being near other people, aside from his mother and himself. He was effectively a ‘do not touch me’ horse, signified by all the red that he put on his harness and bridle. The quiet streets were nice, he only saw the occasional member of the Order walking around, making sure there weren’t any demons lurking in the alleyways. He could see the Elesion Bakery at the end of the road, opening up for the early morning patrollers of the Order. Cecilia, her brown hair hidden under a hood to protect it from the fires of the ovens, was at the doorway, seemingly waiting for someone. She looked up as Nero approached, a wide smile on her face.

“Nero! Good morning!” 

“Good morning, Mrs. Elesion.” Nero said, reaching back to grab the cookbook. “Mom told me to return your cookbook to you.” 

“Oh, wonderful!” Cecilia took the offered cookbook and set it on a table inside. “Wait right here Nero.” She dipped inside. After a few moments, she came back out with a roll of bread, exactly what Nero expected. “What brings you out here in the early morning?” 

“I’m heading to the Alchemist’s Guild. I have supplies for them that I’m hoping to sell to them.” Nero explained. “You know, so Mom and I don’t have to worry about money this month.”

“Oh, you’ve grown to such a responsible young man!” Cecilia fawned, pinching his cheek. 

“Poor Nero, can’t get away from getting embarrassed by the women who took care of him.” Griffon snickered. Nero pouted when Cecilia let go of his cheek. 

“I still remember when he was just at my hip. And look at him!” She gestured to the teenager. “He’s grown up so much!”

“Mrs. Elesion, I have to go.” Nero said awkwardly. “I need to get the supplies to the Alchemist’s Guild. They…” He trailed off. How could he tell her that they were demon parts from the forest? She’d probably faint! “Well, it’s important that they get to the Alchemist’s Guild. They’re probably busy with people bringing in all sorts of stuff.” 

“Oh, I understand!” She ruffled Nero’s silvery locks. “Tell Cassandra I said hi!” 

“I will, when I go back home.” Nero nodded, leading Altare away from the bakery. He took a bite of the bread given to him, savoring the warmth of freshly baked bread as he continued down the streets of Fortuna. As they walked, Nero could feel himself beginning to stand out compared to the rest of the city. For one thing, the outskirts of the city were far newer than the inner portions of the city, showcasing a more antique regal style. The Alchemist’s Guild was located near the Lord’s Manor, the home of the elusive regent lord of Fortuna: Dante Sparda.

Nero had heard dozens and dozens of rumors regarding the regent lord. What was for certain was that, seventeen years ago, something happened between the regent lord and his brother, the heir of Fortuna Vergil. That event, whatever it was, caused Dante to take leadership of Fortuna. The event must’ve been an outside force causing the two brothers to split, he knew from his schooling that regents were caretakers of the throne for the true ruler. Everyone gossiped why Dante was so reclusive, only coming out for one event in Fortuna: The Festival of the Sword. Of course, when they weren’t talking about how reclusive their own lord was, they were talking shit about his mother behind his back. Nero bristled whenever they called his mother a whore. He could handle being called a bastard, he knew that his father would have loved him had he not died before he was born, but his mother wasn’t a whore! In his youth, he had physically fought those who demeaned his mother, before his mother taught him not to fist-fight people who said mean things about them. 

She could handle it, she had told him. Because she knew she was loved by his father, and she knew he would have loved him too. 

Leading Altare around the Alchemist’s Guild building, a surprisingly small and subtle place for a guild that the royal alchemist Agnus Bazzoli led, he looked up at the half door. He peered his head inside. “Uh, hello?”

“Hold yer britches!” Came an obviously female voice. “Daddy ain’t up yet, lazy bastard.” Nero frowned as a young woman, about his age if he had to guess, strode up to the half door. She definitely showed more skin than he was used to. Her curly hair was tied up, kept out of the way of her intense brown eyes. “What’s yer name?”

“...Nero. Nero Àilleachd. I have demon parts to sell to the Alchemist’s Guild.” Nero explained. The woman pushed open the half-door and walked around the cart, Altare whinnying warningly. Nero pulled on his bridle to keep him from trying to bite the woman. “Altare’s a biter, be careful.” 

“Gotcha.” She leaned over, picking up the two boxes. She passed a glance to Shadow and Griffon, Griffon holding Nero’s breakfast in his talons to keep it away from the woman. “You got familiars too?”

“Why, is that special or something?” 

“Well, I only know one little familiar and-”

“ **EEEEEEEEK!** ” A scream ripped through the air, followed by playful chirping. A small wyvern-like familiar with black and white scales ran down the stairs and jumped onto the half-door, seeming to snicker while wiggling happily.

“...that would be her.” The woman pointed out with a grin on her face. “That’s Cordelia. She’s Lord Dante’s familiar. Can’t go two seconds without either getting into trouble or scaring my dad into getting out of bed.” Cordelia stared at Nero, tilting her head as if analyzing him. Nero reached over to take his breakfast, opening the paper bag and taking out one of the crepes. He carefully took out a piece of chicken and offered it to the familiar. She took the piece from Nero’s hand, making sure not to nip his fingers. “Well, that’s one way for her to like you: free food.” The two glanced up as panicked footsteps ran around upstairs. 

“So your dad lives here as well?”

“Yeah. His job as royal alchemist means he’s gotta be near Dante’s place at all times. If I had a dollar every time some rich asshole tried to woo me only to get a knuckle sandwich…”

“Wait.” Nero stared at her. “You’re Agnus’ daughter?”

“The one and only. Name’s Nicoletta Goldstein. You can call me Nico though, I prefer it that way.” She beamed at him. “I took on my ma’s last name instead of my daddy’s, in case yer curious.” Nero shrugged, watching as a disheveled older gentleman, almost the spitting image of Nico (aside from a rather prominent chin and hunched back, perhaps from too many long nights at a desk). He rushed over to his daughter.

“Nicolet- Nico!” It seemed that Agnus wasn’t quite used to just calling his daughter by a shortened version of her name. Nero noted a rather soft tone in his voice. Agnus turned to Nero, eyes focused on him. “And you…” He paused, as if trying to pin where exactly he saw him before. 

“Nero Àilleachd. We haven’t met.” Agnus let out a soft hum at that.

“I see...Àilleachd...” He nodded slowly, as if the name was quite interesting to him, before writing something down. He glanced at the two boxes before opening one. “Oh!” He perked up visibly at the demon parts inside, pulling up a new sheet of paper and fervently muttering and writing under his breath. Cordelia stared at the royal alchemist with a curious chirp. Nico chuckled and leaned against the door. 

“Well, he’s gonna be at this for a while. Lemme get your cash and send ya on your way.” She lifted herself off the door and walked away. Nero quietly began to eat the first crepe his mother prepared for him, watching the wyvern familiar carefully. Cordelia sniffed at the crepe before Agnus’ sudden ‘oh!’ made her jump. He quickly stood up, leaning out the door to Nero. 

“May I have some of your blood?” He asked breathlessly. Nero gave him a look while Cordelia audibly growled at Agnus.

“The fuck kinda question is that!?” Griffon snapped. “You creep!” He flared out his wing protectively at Nero. Agnus cowered a little, more at Cordelia’s growl than the protective Griffon. 

“I-I-I just, Àilleachd isn’t quite a common last name for the citizens of Fortuna...so I was merely curious about your heritage.” He explained. 

“I still think you’re a creep.” Griffon sneered. “You might be a good alchemist but your social skills stink!” Cordelia growled in agreement. Agnus held up his hands and backed away from the door. Nero looked back to his crepe, slowly eating. While the offer was offered rather suddenly and awkwardly, the shock was wearing off. He was curious to see if Agnus could shed light on his mysterious father. However, it seemed that Griffon would be intent on keeping the two apart, for his safety. 

“No thanks. By the way.” Nero spoke up. He’d rather have that line of thought cut off himself rather than his mother’s familiar trying to cut it off for him. He heard an affirmative reply from the alchemist, now buried in the parts he brought. Cordelia chittered cutely, jumping off the half-door and onto Nero’s shoulder. “So...you’re Dante’s familiar…” Nero murmured. Cordelia chirped happily and tilted her head curiously. 

“Huh. Didn’t know he had one. Should’ve guessed though.” Griffon slowly retracted his wing. “He’s a king, he’s got all the power he needs.” 

“Lord!” Cordelia squawked, as if mimicking a voice she heard. Griffon rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever. He’s effectively the king!” 

  
“Lord!” The wyvern yelled. Griffon sighed. The sound of footsteps caught Nero’s attention. Nico walked to the door with a sizable wad of cash in hand. 

“Well, here ya go!” She presented the wad to Nero. “Have a good day!” He took the wad of cash with a smile, shoving it in his inner pocket. Cordelia chirped and transformed into a magpie, flying up to Griffon and chirping in his face before flying back inside, swiping Angus’ monocle as well. Griffon made a face.

“Wierdo.” He muttered. Nero sighed and finished his crepe, tossing the wax paper into the paper bag. He led Altare away from the Alchemist’s Guild back home, to count how much he got exactly.

* * *

“Nightmare, hold still.” Nero muttered, looking up at the golem. The golem, the size of a large doll, merely stared at him with it’s singular purple orb. It held a sizable jar, stuffed full of money he had gathered over the past three months. He was busy splitting the money between the jar and a couple others, one for repairing and maintaining his weapons Blue Rose and Red Queen and the other for his mother to use for whatever she needed. Between counting and splitting up the money, he finished the second crepe his mother made for him. As for the jar in Nightmare’s hands, however, was a personal fund. Not for himself, but for Kyrie. 

Tomorrow was the Festival of the Blade. Kyrie, through hard work, was chosen to be the Festival’s Songstress. He remembered how excited she was when she was chosen, her and the rest of the Elesions. Normally, he skipped out on the Festival simply because he was busy helping his mother with the horses at the horse ranch on the other side of the city. Tomorrow he was going to attend the festival, watch Kyrie sing, and maybe do some of the activities at the festival (that sword tournament looked promising!). 

When he finished, he took the large jar out of Nightmare’s hands, replacing it with the jar that was to go to Cassandra. Nightmare stood up and toddled out of his room, leaving Nero to methodically count the money in the large jar. He quietly counted the money in his hands, hoping and praying that he just had enough to get Kyrie that necklace he saw in the window, one that he had passed by for months now: a golden necklace with four wings surrounding a delicate rose quartz crystal. It was an expensive necklace but, for someone as angelic as Kyrie, it was worth it.

“...yes!” He grinned, folding up the cash and pocketing it. He had enough, in the nick of time, with cash to spare! Taking the two jars and putting them away, he quickly went down the stairs. His mother wasn’t home, at the horse ranch she worked at on the other side of the Castle Town of Fortuna. While it paid ok (the exact pay Cassandra never revealed to him), he knew that it was barely enough to pay for the cottage. He remembered the nights where all they had for dinner was day old bread Cecilia had given to them and vegetables from his mother’s garden. He hated the memory, mostly because he still wasn’t too fond of vegetables, but he could visibly remember the look of exhausted sadness on Cassandra’s face at the meager offerings for dinner. Fresh vegetables on the table were only possible thanks to Cassandra’s efforts but she couldn’t do everything. Even at a young age, he could see that she was often exhausted from work and raising him. He hated seeing her struggle, her hiding the pain of being a poor single mother. 

Pushing the memory out of his mind, he made his way out of the cottage back to Fortuna. He heard Shadow let out a confused murr but neither familiar moved from the sunny spot from the couch to follow him. He preferred it like that, Griffon liked to embarrass him whenever he got the chance next to his mother. For today, he needed to be all on his own to get the necklace for Kyrie to give to her tomorrow. 

As his feet dashed across the cobblestone streets of Fortuna, passing by the plaza with it’s ornate carved fountain of the city founder Sparda and his queen, Eva, he heard a familiar voice call for him.

“Nero!” Nero skidded to a halt, twisting his head to the source of the voice: Kyrie. His heart felt like it was soaring at the sight of her, the afternoon light shining on her auburn hair. She ran up to him. “Nero, what’s got you in a hurry?” He blinked. How could he tell her what he was doing while keeping his intentions a surprise?

“I’m...running errands for my mom.” That would work. Kyrie seemed to buy it. 

“How is your mother?” She asked sweetly. “Last I saw her, she seemed nervous about something.” Nervous? His mother? He never saw her nervous nor could he think of a reason why she would be. He responded with a shrug.

“I don’t know why she’d be nervous. I mean, there’s always a horse parade for the Festival, maybe it’s that?” Nero offered. Kyrie let out a sigh.

“Maybe that’s it. We always attend the Festival and we never see you or your mother there so…” She trailed off awkwardly. 

“Well, I’m go-” 

“Well well well, if it isn’t one of Fortuna’s misbegotten sons.” Came a voice, a voice that made Kyrie flinch. Nero looked up, his eyes narrowing at a familiar gentleman walking towards him, black hair tied in a loose ponytail. He wore a red coat, a white shirt with a long frilled cravat that made him look stupid (in Nero’s opinion, not that he had a high opinion of the man in the first place). He strode closer to the two, his hazel eyes glancing to Kyrie in mock sympathy. “I have no idea why you chose to fraternize with this lowborn rabble, Miss Elesion.”

“Paride, what I do with my free time is none of your concern.” Kyrie responded cooly.

“But your reputation, Miss Elesion. Unless you want Fortuna to know you keep a pet bastard by your side-”

“Watch your fucking mouth, Acardi.” Nero growled. Paride grinned at him, as if amused by this challenge. 

“Would you willingly brawl a noble, lowborn?” He taunted. Kyrie let out a worried hum before turning to Paride. 

"Paride! Can you go find my brother and tell him that I need some hard raspberry candies?" 

"Oh!” Paride looked to her, as if he was just aware that she existed. “Of course, milady!" Paride bowed exaggeratedly before running off to the Order Headquarters. When he turned the corner, Nero looked to Kyrie in confusion.

"I thought you didn't like raspberry...?"

"Oh no I don't. But Credo knows that if I send Paride over with the request of raspberry candies, it means that Paride was harassing me again." She sighed. "He's been irritatingly insistent that he marry me. Credo and I have told him no, he’s far too old for me, but he just won't..." She sighed. "Besides, I hate raspberries." Nero frowned, looking to the direction Paride went. 

“How...old is he?”

“Twenty-eight. He’s ten years older than me.” Kyrie said sadly. “He always talks about ‘maintaining the old bloodlines’ like it’s the most important thing in the world when it’s not. Our parents didn’t marry for the sake of something so silly as bloodlines, they married for love. Credo promised to me that I would be given the same choice. I don’t want to marry Paride, I know that much. He’s too old for me and I know he looks at other girls younger than me.” She scowled at that. “I wouldn’t marry him if he was the Lord of Fortuna.” 

“If he harasses you again, I’ll make sure to beat his face in.” Nero huffed. Kyrie smiled at him.

“Thank you Nero.” She paused. “Actually...Paride has been boasting about how he’s going to easily win the tournament at the Festival tomorrow.” Nero raised an eyebrow. “Do you have any plans to compete?”

“Yeah, for the prize mon- Wait a minute.” He grinned. “Are you asking me to beat some humility into him?”

“Maybe.” Kyrie said playfully. Nero hummed in mock thoughtfulness. 

“Well...my mom’s gonna be worried sick if she finds out-”

“I’ll give you a kiss if you win.” Nero’s face burned a bright red, taken off-guard by her offer. 

“Uh...and?” He asked, trying to keep the playfulness despite his reddened face. 

“And I’ll ask my mom to make more food for you and Miss Àilleachd.” 

“Deal.” If there was anything that would make his mother happy, it was more food in the pantry. And with the extra money from winning the tournament, he could see him and his mother be comfortable for a little bit. Perhaps his mother could even take a well-deserved vacation! 

“Thank you Nero.” Kyrie smiled. “I can’t wait to see you beat him. He…” She looked around, making sure Paride hadn’t returned while they were conversing. “He deserves it, if I’m being honest.” 

“I promise. I’ll make sure he gets some humility beaten into him.” Nero said with a cocky smile. While he had never been in a tournament before, he was pretty confident in his skills in fighting. Red Queen and Blue Rose, after all, were his own creations. He knew exactly how they ticked. Kyrie giggled, making Nero smile.

“I can’t wait to support you in the tournament.” She looked up. “I need to go back to my parents before Paride returns. My brother can’t keep him distracted forever.” She said. “Bye Nero!” 

“Bye Kyrie.” Nero waved at her, watching her run back to the Elesion Bakery. He turned around, making his way to the jewelry shop where he spotted the necklace just three months ago with a plan in mind: go to the Festival of the Blade, gift Kyrie the necklace, and knock Paride down a few pegs at the tournament. He would do anything for Kyrie’s happiness.


	3. The Festival of the Blade

“Ugh, we’re up at the butt-crack of dawn for a pretty girl...feels like a cheesy romance novel.” Griffon grumbled, shifting as he resisted the urge to pick at the cravat he had to wear. The cravat in question, a gift from Enrico, was a deep scarlet, decorated with the symbol of House Elesion in golden thread: Sparda’s horns and sword, with sun rays radiating from the horns. 

“...eight AM is not dawn.” Nero corrected as he made his way down the street, lit by the rising sun, to the Savior’s Cathedral. Griffon let out an irritated huff.

“Is too, morning bird!” He objected. Shadow merely meowed, walking along Nero with a red leather harness. Etched into the harness was the surname Elesion, another gift from Enrico. Nero merely sighed.

“Just keep quiet while Kyrie sings, OK?” He muttered to the bird as he slipped inside the cathedral. It was crowded, jam-packed with people eagerly awaiting for the ceremony. The morning light streamed in from above, illuminating the stage that Kyrie would sing at to begin the Festival. He looked to the side, at a special box where the Regent Lord would be, along with Credo (the newly appointed Supreme Commander of the Order of the Sword) and (from what he heard) the Regent Lord’s retainer. He pulled his coat closer to him, keeping the small box containing his gift to Kyrie just as close. His eyes scanned the crowd and the stands above the common masses. He saw Cecilia and Enrico in the stands, there due to their relation to Credo. He knew Cecilia would happily bring him up to the stands, she regarded him like a son after all, but he liked being on the ground floor. Above them was Paride and his father Dren, the Royal Huntmaster. They were practically next to the Regent Lord’s box, the arrogant bastards. On the other side of the box, he could barely see Agnus and Nico, but didn’t really have strong feelings about them. 

“Crowded…” Griffon muttered, draping himself on Nero’s shoulders to look more like a chicken than a hawk. Shadow rubbed her face against Nero’s leg. “You didn’t tell me there were gonna be a lot of people.” He murmured. 

“It’s THE festival of the island. Of course everyone who can show up will show up.” Nero hissed, reaching up to rest his hand on Griffon’s head. The hawk familiar let out a soft grumble before Nero heard the sound of doors. He looked up, watching as the regent lord of Fortuna stepped into the box. 

Nero could only marvel at the snow-white hair Dante bore. He looked every bit of the lord he was, a ruler, almost like a king. His red coat was immaculate, decorated with golden buttons and the insignia of the House of Sparda. Nestled in his hand was a familiar magpie, Cordelia, held like a precious artifact. On his back, standing out strikingly against his regalia, was a steel greatsword with a screaming skull for a guard. Even for a festival, he brought a sword? Unless it was sentimental to him or if a demon attacked without warning. He set the sword on the ground in front of his seat before sitting down. By his left, he spotted a young woman with intense red hair in a braid that rested over her shoulder. Garbed in blue leather and a white half-cape, Nero took note of her slim daggers. By his right, Credo sat, as he was the Supreme Commander of the Order of the Sword. Credo’s presence relaxed him, just a little. He looked to the stage, watching as the master of ceremony got on the stage. He tuned out what he said, his mind focused on other things: giving Kyrie the necklace and beating some humility into Paride at the tournament later.

“...and now, I proudly present the Songstress of the Festival, Lady Kyrie Elesion!” The master of ceremonies stepped aside, allowing Kyrie to step onto the stage. Nero immediately perked up, watching Kyrie as she stepped onto the stage, black lace shawl around her arms and a stylized headpiece on her head. She looked beautiful (when didn’t she?) under the morning light, confident in what she was about to do. 

And then she began to sing.

Nero smiled, leaning back against the wall as he listened to Kyrie sing, her song reverberating throughout the cathedral. He felt Shadow’s body purr against his leg at her singing. He glanced down, seeing her tail sway like a metronome. He glanced back up to the people around them, visibly entranced by Kyrie’s song and skill. He mused at how blessed he was, to have even known someone like Kyrie. House Elesion was one of the oldest and most prestigious houses of Fortuna. By all standards, Kyrie had her choice of suitors to marry. Even if Paride was the most insistent of potential suitors, the fact remained that Kyrie was so fond of him...he wondered if she considered him as someone worthy of her love. 

“Hey Nero.” Griffon murmured, rousing Nero from his thoughts. “Don’t look obvious, but Dante’s lookin’ real intently at you.” Nero flicked his eyes up, to where the regent lord was sitting. As Griffon said, Dante wasn’t even close to focused on Kyrie. If Nero had to guess, with a gaze that focused on him, everything around him was a haze to the regent lord. But why? It was true that they shared hair color and eyes, but if he really was the son of Dante, would Dante let them live in poverty? What kind of fight would his mother and Dante have to break off their relationship and live separate lives, to let Dante live without giving child support? No, he couldn’t. The regent lord was a lot of things, elusive and private definitely being both of them, but cruel enough to leave a single mother alone without any help? It was unfathomable. 

Nero returned his focus to Kyrie, who had finished her song. As she curtsied to the crowd, they applauded her performance (as they should, Nero thought). She stepped off the stage, letting the master of ceremonies take control. He slowly stood, moving around behind the crowd to meet Kyrie. Shadow let out a soft meow as she got up to follow Nero. As they slunk around the edge of the crowd, Nero could feel Dante’s gaze on the back of his head. Then again, his white hair made it difficult for him to blend into the crowd, even with Griffon on his shoulders. He perked up when he spotted Kyrie slipping out from behind a door, dressed in a casual but nice dress. He continued to slip behind the crowd to meet her. Kyrie perked up as he approached.

“Nero!” She greeted breathlessly. “I’m glad you came-”

“Of course I’d come. I would never miss the chance to hear you sing.” He pointed out, a smile on his face. “Oh, I brought something for you.” Kyrie hummed with interest as he pulled out a box. He handed the box to her, opening it to reveal the necklace. “I saved up for months to give this to you someday. It just so happened I managed to get enough to buy it for today.” He admitted to an astonished Kyrie.

“Nero, I love it.” She carefully took the necklace out of it’s box. “Nero, can you help me put it on?”

“Of course.” Nero nodded, putting the box back in his coat. He carefully took the necklace from her hands. She turned, allowing him to put the necklace around her neck. When she turned around, her hand reached up to touch the seraphic wings.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Even more so on you.” Nero said, without thinking. Kyrie beamed at him. 

“Ooooh, gottem lover boy.” Griffon cooed. Nero scowled, earning a playful chuckle from the avian familiar. 

“You can’t rest on your laurels just yet, Nero.” Kyrie pointed out gently. “The tournament-”

“I’ll beat Paride. And anyone that gets in my way in the tournament. I promise.” 

“I know you will.” Kyrie patted his shoulder. “But you won’t be able to do anything unless you register.” She paused. “Which starts in five minutes.” Nero paled before quickly shuffling with the crowd out of the cathedral.

* * *

Nero chugged down a bottle of ice cold water as Kyrie gently wiped his brow of sweat. The Tournament of the Blade was difficult, each match becoming harder and harder to overcome. He had noticed Paride had taken down his opponents with far less struggle than Nero had. Hell, some of Paride’s opponents had their Durandals explode in their hands! What was suspicious was that he was certain that none of that happened to _his_ opponents...He shook the thought out of his head. He had to focus on Paride, his final opponent in the tournament. The one man standing between him and food for him and his mother, money, the renown of winning the combat tournament, and a kiss from Kyrie. 

“Nero?” Kyrie’s voice roused him from his thoughts. “I noticed something, whenever you’re out there fighting.” 

“Hm?”

“Lord Dante pays attention to your fights. I’ve never seen him pay attention to anything regarding the festival, much less the fighting tournaments he is obligated to watch over.” Kyrie said. “I wonder why he’s interested in you.” 

“Probably to replace Credo.” Nero joked. Kyrie whapped the back of his head with her hand. “Ow! I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Sorry…” Kyrie let out a sigh, taking the washcloth back to rinse it. “My arm’s been tingling ever since I started fighting in the tournament.” That, and Dante paying attention whenever he fought...that was too much of a coincidence. There was something connecting him and Dante together, given the similarities in hair color and eyes, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. 

He heard a horn and looked up. It was time. He slowly stood up and stretched, picking up Red Queen. He looked to Griffon and Shadow, sitting patiently and quietly (for once in Griffon’s life). “I want you two to stay near my entrance. Ok?”

“Uh...Got it? But we can’t join you out there.”

“I know, but I want you to watch in case Paride tries to cheat.” Nero clarified. “Can you two do that?” 

“Sure can, kiddo. But we can’t intervene.” Griffon pointed out. “Rules and all.” 

“Like that stopped you before.” Nero chuckled. Shadow stood and nudged Nero to the entrance, letting out a chuff.

“Wait!” Kyrie rushed up to him and promptly kissed his cheek. Nero gasped in surprise. “It’s for luck. I believe in you Nero.” Nero stared at her before nodding with a smile. He stepped out into the light.

“And this year's newest entry, soaring up the ranks like a shooting star.” The announcer said into a megaphone, riling up the crowd. “Nero Àilleachd! Against the scion of House Acardi, Paride!” As the crowd cheered, Nero stared down Paride as he approached the center, where the referee was. The two men stared at each other, Nero squeezing the handle of Red Queen. Silence filled the arena, the anticipation building in the air around them. 

“Fight!” The referee dashed away just moments before the two blades clashed, Paride’s gilded Durandal against Nero’s own Red Queen. The two blades strained at each other before Nero pushed him back. His slash was parried by the other’s Durandal. The two continued to trade blows, Nero determined not to let Paride get away with an easy victory, not with so much on the line. He noticed, to his delight, that Paride was actually sweating during their duel. 

“Bet you expected me to roll over, didn’t ya, you cheating bastard?” Nero snarled, pressing hard against the other’s Durandal. Sparks flew as the two blades strained against each other. “You think Kyrie and I didn’t notice how easily you beat your opponents?” 

“You have...no proof…” Paride groaned. “I was...merely more skilled than them!”

“LIAR!” Nero snarled, overpowering him with a hard push. Paride tumbled back, perfectly open for Nero. Nere swung his right arm forward to cheap-shot Paride in the stomach, what was only right for a liar and a cheat. Paride swung his Durandal forward, slicing his arm open and sending scarlet blood onto the ground. Nero howled in pain, stumbling back. He heard the gasp of the crowd around him. He swore he heard an affirmative voice and the footsteps of the referee rushing out to the field to stop Paride and declare him the winner. Nero wouldn’t have it. “I can still fight!” He snarled at the referee. 

“Tch, you sullied my blade.” Paride sneered, catching Nero’s attention. “Run along home now, lowborn filth. Run back to that whore you call a mother.” Nero felt something flare up in his blood, rage unlike anything he felt before. The pain in his arm felt like flames on his skin. He stormed forward towards Paride. Paride tried to lift up his blade but Nero swung Red Queen, sending the Durandal flying. 

“ **_Don’t you dare call my mother a whore!_ **” He roared, in a voice he could only faintly recognize. He grabbed Paride by the front of his shirt and threw him to the wall, earning a satisfying crunch of something breaking. He let out a low pant, a low warped voice murmuring in his head.

_‘Don’t let him live, don’t let him get away with insulting our mother, don’t let him think about seeing Kyrie-’_

“NERO!” A voice, a squawk from Griffon, snapped him out of that state. He whipped around, seeing Griffon flying over to him, Shadow bounding after the hawk-sized familiar. “Whatever’s in that head of yours, you better stop!” Nero was about to respond before realizing what kind of situation he was in. All eyes were on him, the air still from what just transpired. He glanced to his arm-

His arm. What happened to his arm?! What was once human skin was scarlet scales, reaching up to his elbow. A blue glow emanated from where Paride slashed into him with barely any hint of pain from the Durandal. He wiggled his hand, feeling raw demonic power coursing through his veins, as if it was a part of him. He looked back up, to the regent lord’s box. He could see the shock on Credo’s face at the events that just happened. Growling loudly was Cordelia, the wyvern-looking familiar now as large as a tiger, the red bow still on her body at the base of her neck. If the situation was different, not the result of Nero’s sudden transformation, he probably would’ve found it almost cute. 

Dante suddenly moved, standing up and picking up his steel greatsword. Panic shot through his body. Nero took a step back, letting out an exhale and tightening his grip on Red Queen. Was Dante going to strike him down himself!? He looked to Griffon, to Dante, then back to Griffon. 

“What are we gonna do?” Griffon asked him, fear evident in his voice. Nero never heard Griffon sound fearful before. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to get away, that he was in danger, to _run_.

In that case...there was only one thing to do.

“RUN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noo, I totally didn't fix the previous chapter to correct the fact that I called it the Festival of the Sword instead of the Festival of the Blade. Tooootally not I.


	4. Fortuna Castle

“Griffon, give me a lift!” Nero yelled, reaching his arm out. Griffon’s talons clasped his arms, pulling him skyward just as Nero leapt off one of the roofs to the other, Red Queen hoisted on Nero’s back. “Shit, where are we going to go hide?!” He gasped, glancing back to see the troops of the Order dashing on the streets alongside him. 

“Fuck fuck fuck…” Griffon swore as Nero slid down the downward slope of the roof. At the edge of the roof, he leapt up to land on the other. “OH! I got it! Fortuna Castle!”

“ARE YOU INSANE!?” Nero screeched. “That place is forbidden to enter, on order by the Regent Lord himself! If we enter that castle, we’re dead!”

“If we go back there, we’re dead!” Griffon yelled. “And I don’t know about you but I’ll take my chances with the monster in the castle rather than the Regent Lord and Cordelia! We’d at least have the advantage!” Griffon was right. Nero wasn’t sure if he could stand against Dante and his familiar. Shadow was probably protecting Kyrie, she was fond of her (and he would have wanted her to protect Kyrie anyway, in case the wounded Paride tried anything). But the Monster of Castle Fortuna was another matter, the matter of the fact that nobody knew what it looked like. Castle Fortuna was guarded by only the most elite of the Order, chosen by Lord Dante himself. Many people believed that the Monster was a demon so powerful it could only be contained, never killed. 

Which made Griffon’s gamble of hiding in the most dangerous place on Fortuna, next to Mitis Forest, so wild. But Nero had not much of a choice in the matter, between imprisonment and possible death in the prison cells of the Order and staying in the Castle for a few hours, until everything cooled down and he could sneak back to the cottage and to his mother. He glanced to his arm, still aglow and scaled. Was it permanent? Temporary? He hoped his mother knew something about this, to help him with this problem. He couldn’t bear to entertain the thought that his arm was a sign that he was a demon, that his mother _birthed_ a demon. But he couldn’t just dash to the horse ranch, not with what felt like half the Order on his tail. 

“We’re almost there Nero!” Griffon yelled. Nero glanced up, noticing that he seemed to glow with demonic power. Nero looked up, seeing a tall gate that separated the paths to Fortuna Castle and the Castle Town. Nero nodded, running as fast as he could on the roof before, at the last possible moment, he leapt. Griffon grabbed his arm and soared to the gate, just barely clearing the spikes. He glanced to the elite guard at the gate, staring up at him. He could only guess that their eyes were wide at Nero clearing the gate’s imposing walls. He returned his gaze forward as Griffon glided to the ground, letting go of Nero to let him land. 

“...I have to admit.” He panted. “I didn’t think that’d work.” 

“All my plans work!” Griffon huffed, settling on his shoulders. “But now my wings hurt. I’ll just...settle right here.”

“Where do we go though?” Nero asked. Griffon pointed his wing forward. Nero squinted, barely able to see a path on the ground.

“Onward and upward, as you humans say.” Griffon said tiredly, shifting on Nero’s shoulders to rest his wings. Nero let out a sigh and walked forward, quickly so that the elite guard wouldn’t grab him and drag him to Dante. Walking along the noted path, Nero’s mind drifted back to the festival grounds. He knew Shadow would be OK, the harness on her body would cause the Order to presume that Shadow was originally from House Elesion. Barring that, Kyrie would vouch for Shadow. He knew she would. He worried about his mother, who had been tending to the horses for the horse parade. If the position of the sun told him anything, it wouldn’t be long before the horses would trot out for the masses pulling various floats. Kyrie loved the floats, she would talk for hours about them to Nero. 

_‘Kyrie…’_ Nero thought, his mind drifting to melancholy. He may have beaten Paride for her but at what cost? His arm was most likely irrevocably changed, either by something Paride did or something deep within his veins. He remembered, when he glanced at Kyrie just moments before jumping up the arena wall and up the stands, the look of terror on her face. She was probably terrified of the demon arm, of him being something worse than a bastard son: a monster. There was only one monster that resided close to Fortuna and that monster was lurking in the castle that he was currently heading to. He pulled his coat closer, noticing the rocks around them were starting to become dusted with snow. There was a certain chill in the air, the chill of a land locked in winter for decades. He remembered some of the many rumors surrounding Fortuna Castle, one of them being that the castle was ensnared in eternal winter by the monster’s own demonic power. While he wasn’t sure if that was true or not, the nip in the air was very much real.

“Brr, chilly.” Griffon grumbled. Nero paused in his trek.

  
“Do you want to get under my coat?” He asked. Griffon perked up.

“Uh, yes! You’re a human heater!” The demonic bird chirped. Nero undid his coat and shrugged it off, holding it by the arm-sleeves. Griffon settled on his back, talons clinging onto his shirt as Nero put his coat back on. Griffon let out a pleased purr. “Sooo much better.” 

“Are you sure you’re gonna be OK on my back?” Nero asked. Griffon poked his head out from under Nero’s collar.

“I’ll be just fine. You just keep going up, ok?” Nero nodded and continued upward. 

“Do you think we’ll find the monster in the castle?” Nero asked, his voice soft and worried. Griffon let out a noncommittal noise, a noise that didn’t assuage Nero’s fears about what they would find on the inside. If the monster was as dangerous as rumor suggested, that not even _Dante_ could bring the demon to it’s grave, what chance did _he_ have to even stand toe-to-toe with it? Nero shuddered at the thought. Pausing in his trek, he looked away from the looming castle to the landscape before him. He could see the Castle Town of Fortuna, nestled under the looming shadow of Castle Fortuna itself. He could faintly see the banners of the festival, the Lord’s Manor that he passed by the day before and, faintly so, the Elesion Bakery. His eyes moved on to the Mitis Forest, where he faintly saw a white figure dash through the woods. A wolf, perhaps?

His stomach roared out it’s displeasure, interrupting Nero’s thoughts. Griffon poked his head out from under the collar of Nero’s coat.

“Hot shit, was that you!?”

“Yeah, it was. I haven’t eaten since the start of the tournament.” 

“Holy fuck!” Griffon wiggled out of the coat. “Ok, just sit tight, I’ll find ya something, ok?” With that, Griffon took off into the clear sky. He sat down and curled up, his eyes resting on his demonic arm. The blue glow was dim, as if idle. His mind drifted back to the match against Paride, retracing his mental steps to figure out how this arm came to be. From all appearances, Paride’s Durandal looked like a typical Durandal aside from being visibly shinier than typical Durandals. He always was a cocky bastard, enough to gilt his own weapon in gold and jewels. It was the tackiest Durandal he had ever seen and he was certain that whoever made the original schematics for the Durandals was either appalled by the changes or rolling in their grave. His mind drifted to Paride’s words, his demonic arm starting to flicker to life as he remembered what he had said: Run back to that whore you call a mother.

_‘My mother isn’t a whore.’_ He mentally growled. _‘The fact that Paride said that even though he’s looking at chicks younger than him and Kyrie! He’s the real bastard!’_ He remembered the moment he snapped, the fire in his arm (perhaps when the demon scales manifested on his skin?), and the strength in just taking Paride and throwing him like a doll. The crunch of breaking bone...he shuddered. He wasn’t sure if it was from the sound or the fact that he remembered...relishing it. And the voice in his head, trying to goad him down a darker path for the sin of insulting his mother, it was terrifying. He was thankful Griffon snapped him out of it when he did or he wasn’t sure if Paride would still be alive at this point. 

He heard flapping and glanced up, seeing Griffon return with a small bag. Griffon landed next to him and placed the bag on the ground. Nero opened it, smiling at the roll of bread that Griffon managed to procure.

“From Mrs. Elesion?” Nero asked. 

“Yep! It seemed like the news of what happened hadn’t reached the bakery yet because Cecilia didn’t mention it.” Griffon said. “You look kinda glum though.” The familiar tilted his head. “Wanna talk about it?”

“...no. Not yet.” This was a conversation to have with his mother, not with Griffon. Nero stood, taking the bag and shoving it into his coat pocket. He silently ate the bread roll, closing his eyes. Griffon let out a sigh and hopped forward, looking up.

“I’d say we’re almost there. We made good time, I guess.” Griffon said. Nero used his human arm to pick up Griffon, pulling him into his coat. “Thanks, kiddo.” The bird hummed as Nero made his way up the path. The castle loomed ever closer, it’s dark spires piercing the blue sky. It certainly looked every bit as intimidating up close as it did afar. His eyes moved downward, to a brick wall. He frowned at the sight.

“The hell?” Nero muttered. He finished his bread roll before walking forward, resting his hand against the wall. It seemed solid. “How is there a door here…” He murmured, letting go of the coat. Griffon fell down out of his coat with an ungraceful ‘flumph!’.

“HEY!” He squawked, taking flight near Nero. “That hurt!”

“SHH!” Nero hissed. “I’m trying to figure out how to get inside!” 

“Ugh, teenagers…” Griffon muttered, landing on a nearby rock. Nero frowned and stepped back away from the wall, looking around the area for a secret switch of some kind. There was no reason that the path would just end here, it just didn’t make sense! 

“Come on!” Nero snarled, slamming his demonic arm into the wall. The brick it landed on depressed, causing a small door to swing wide open. Nero stared at the door, at an equally surprised Griffon, and then back at the door. “Uh…”

“I’ll keep watch for any guards that try and go after you. You go on ahead.” Griffon said. Nero gave him a look. “What? Go on!” 

“...alright.” Nero muttered, going through the opened passageway. Even though it was dark, his demonic arm glowed bright enough to provide light like a flashlight. As Nero moved through the passageway, his arm seemed to tingle more intently. There was indeed a demon here, a powerful one if his arm was anything to go by. He frowned as the path ended in a trapdoor. He pushed the trapdoor open, revealing what looked to be an empty hall full of prison cells. 

A dungeon, was it? He frowned, crawling out of the trapdoor. He propped the trapdoor open, in case he had to make a quick escape later. He began to make his way down the hall, noticing the cells around him were caked with dust from disuse. These cells certainly weren’t big enough nor strong enough to hold a powerful demon, which explained their disuse to him. He climbed up the cramped spiral stairs, making his way up from the dusty dungeon to wherever the stairs took him. 

When he reached the top of the stairs, he found himself in a dark hallway. He held up his aglow demon arm, letting it’s light spill into the hallway. He began to walk down the hallway, looking up at some of the portraits on the wall. Some were landscapes of Fortuna, of places he recognized in Mitis Forest and Castle Town. The cathedral, the beach by the port, the outskirts of Mitis Forest...they were all lovely paintings, if he had to say so himself. 

He stopped in front of one portrait, of a strangely familiar young woman in a flower garden. Despite being surrounded by dozens of beautiful blooming flowers, the woman seemed to be focused on one singular flower in her hand: a blue rose. Her dress was white, a long sleeved dress with her shoulders exposed to the sun. Her golden hair was tied into an elegant braid, resting over her shoulder. His eyes moved to the little golden placard at the base of the frame.

_Lady Cassandra Sagefire, July 17th_

“Mom…?” He murmured. Counting the months, he realized that she was here at least nine months before his birthday in April. Or even longer than that. But why was her portrait in the prison of the Monster of Fortuna Castle? And he never knew his mother to have long hair or wearing dresses like that. He was reminded of medieval dresses he saw in books when Kyrie was tutoring him in History (his weakest subject in school, but Kyrie was always kind enough to help him). And the name Sagefire...that can’t be right. It was Àilleachd! It had been Àilleachd ever since he was born! He let out a ‘tch’ and stepped back, away from the portrait, and continued down the hall. 

At the end of the hallway, the castle seemed to open up into a grand reception hall. It was draped in faded white and blue banners, held up by bundles of dead roses. Broken chairs littered the hall, with some thrown against walls and others trampled by an unseen mob. As Nero stepped out of the shadows into the reception hall, he noticed that, on the other end of the hall, a large portrait of a man and a woman overlooked the decaying and broken hall before them. The white-haired man wore a purple suit, a golden monocle settled on his right eye. Wise blue eyes stared back at Nero, a painted gaze of patience. The woman at his side, a blonde woman in a red dress with a black shawl on her arms. Nero knew it wasn’t his mother. She had a wisdom to her that his mother didn’t match, the wisdom of a queen-

King Sparda and Queen Eva. Nero remembered that from his history books. They were the first rulers of Fortuna. 

His eyes moved down from the portrait to a table, the only thing immaculate in the ruins around Nero. He stepped forward, towards the table. His eyes focused on a glass rose, it’s blue petals gilded with gold. It wasn’t covered in dust like everything else around him. Nero remembered seeing a rose, just like the one before him, in his mother’s room when he was young. It was always high above him and it was, above all, his mother’s most cherished possession. So why was it here-

“ **_Thief._ **” 

A voice boomed out, causing Nero to turn around. He stepped away from the rose, trying to find the source of the voice. He pulled out Red Queen with his human arm, giving it’s handle a twist to let the blade flare to life. 

“Show yourself!” Nero snarled. 

“ **_You ask that of me, whelp?_ ** ” The voice growled. Nero saw the shadows shift in the balcony above and immediately leapt away from them. A being, the Monster Nero presumed lived in the Castle, landed in front of him: A blue demon that towered over Nero. Yellow eyes on the demon’s chest, arms, and midsection glowered at him. Nero’s blue met the demon’s green, a silence filling the air. Nero could feel the raw power in the air, radiating from the demon before him. The demon’s eyes flicked down to his demonic arm before his lips curled into a snarl. “ **_Get out._ **”

“Wha-”

“ **_GET OUT!_ **” The demon roared before swinging his fist. Nero dodged out of the way, swinging Red Queen back on his back and dashing down the hall he came out of. Speeding down the stairs and to the trap door, he jumped down. The trapdoor slammed above his head with a loud ‘BANG!’. Nero dashed down the passageway to the exit, where Griffon still was. He seemed to be talking to a large white wolf with black wings. Nero skidded to a halt, panting heavily. Griffon stared at him, cocking his head in confusion.

“The fuck happened?!”

“The demon...he...he found me…” He panted. “He nearly got me...but I was faster…” He looked up at the wolf. “Who’s this?”

“Fury. She’s protected the Spardas for years!” Griffon said. “She’s also faster than Kitty.” Nero would have to take his word on that. He looked up, noticing the darkening sky. 

“Let’s go home.” Nero said, moving past the wolf to make his way down the path. Fury shot forward, grabbing the scruff of his coat. “What the-” He was flung into the air before landing on her back. Nero sat there awkwardly between her wings, looking around dumbly. Griffon laughed as he jumped up to settle on his shoulder.

“She likes you! That’s a good thing. Alright girl, get us home!” The wolf rolled her head, the closest to an eyeroll. “Oh come on, slow poke!” Griffon taunted. Fury let out a growl before she dashed down the mountain towards Mitis Forest. Nero yelped, leaning forward to hold on tightly to her fur. Griffon cackled as he took to the skies, following the wolf as she dashed from the castle to the forest.


	5. The Story Told

Mitis Forest was a blur of black and dark green as Fury raced through the woods. Nero pressed his body close to the wolf, not wanting to get whipped in the face by stray branches. He could hear the wind rush past his ears, the hard impact of paws against dirt, and Griffon’s wings as he flew in the skies above them. Questions were swirling in his mind, questions about who his father really was, his mother’s connection to the Monster inside Fortuna Castle and Lord Dante, and what to do about the demon scales that were all over his right arm. But, above all, he was outright terrified. Terrified of losing his mother, of losing Kyrie, of being banished out of Fortuna into Mitis Forest or execution. 

The wolf suddenly skidded to a halt, dirt flying into the air. Nero looked up, seeing Shadow sitting at the edge of the forest. In the distance, he could see his mother’s cottage, bathed in the last light of the sunset. Nero carefully got off Fury, Griffon fluttering down to his level.

“Say thanks to the fluffball here.” Griffon urged. “Because walking through Mitis Forest at night? Ain’t my schtick.” Nero chuckled a little at that before turning to Fury.

“Thanks...for letting me ride you.” The wolf nuzzled his arm. Nero began to give the wolf awkward ear scratches, unused to a wolf almost as tall as him. The wolf let out a pleased noise and licked his cheek. She stayed there for a few minutes, enjoying his scratches before she pulled away. Walking back into the forest, she paused to glance back to Nero. After a few moments, she bounded into the darkness with a howl.

Nero let out a sigh, feeling Shadow rub her head against his leg. He just stood there, at the edge of Mitis Forest, his gaze moving to his demonic arm. Shadow let out a chuff, reaching up to rub her head against his demonic arm. Nero instinctively pulled his hand away, earning a sad meow from the jaguar familiar. Nero flinched at the sound before carefully making his way to the cottage’s back door. He took the scarf off his coat, wrapping it around his demonic arm to hide it. He noticed the lights were on, at this hour he knew his mother would be cooking dinner. As he approached, he could distinctly smell...pizza? His mother never ordered pizza unless it was a special occasion. He went to the window, leaning against the wall to peer inside as subtly as he could.

Inside, sitting on the couch, he could see his mother. Next to her was...Lord Dante. He wasn’t in the regal outfit he saw earlier today but something more casual: a red coat with a black vest, matching red pants (guess he really liked the color red), a strap on each thigh (for guns, perhaps?), and black boots. He couldn’t see Cordelia, not from his vantage point, but he figured she was around somewhere. To his relief, he didn’t seem to be here to arrest her for birthing a demon or sleeping with one in the first place. 

“You know, if you had come to me in the first place, I could’ve helped you.” Lord Dante said. He noticed his mother frown.

“I couldn’t risk it, Dante. If she was still living, I was afraid that me reaching out to you would get her attention. She would do anything to stop the curse from breaking and…” Cassandra took a shaky breath. “Whether she would’ve hurt Nero or brainwashed him, I don’t know which would be worse.” Nero frowned. Who was his mother referring to? It sounded like a woman Cassandra feared greatly, if her tone was anything to go by. If that fear stopped her from going to the Regent Lord of Fortuna for help...what kind of monster was this mysterious woman?

He was snapped out of his thoughts when a certain wyvern familiar (this time, the size of a large dog. At least it wasn’t the size of Fury) jumped onto him. He let out a yell of surprise as he was pinned down. The black and white wyvern began to chitter loudly.

“Master’s Nephew! Master’s Nephew!” 

“Get off me!” Nero growled, squirming as he tried (and failed) to get up. 

“Oi! Keep yer talons to yourself you overgrown-” Griffon huffed, fluffing himself up. Cordelia chittered teasingly at him. 

“Cordelia, I told you not to scare him, he’s had enough for today! Let him in his own house, you little trouble maker.” Dante yelled from inside the cottage. Cordelia chittered and shrunk back to her smaller size as she wiggled away excitedly like a speedy lizard. Nero could only presume she was eagerly crawling back into Dante’s lap for petting and belly rubs. Nero grumbled as he got up and stepped into the cottage.

“Nero!” Cassandra jumped up, immediately worrying over him. “Nero, what happened!? Are you OK?” 

“I…” Nero could only stare at her. Was he really OK? “A lot happened today.” 

“It’s alright, my little lion. How about you clean up and I’ll reheat some pizza Dante brought.” Nero blinked and looked to the counter, seeing at least three boxes of pizza there. 

“Lord Dante brought food?” Nero asked.

“You don’t need to address me by Lord.” Dante piped up from the couch. “Not even Lucia does that.” Nero could only presume that Lucia was Dante’s retainer. Nero sighed and went to the bathroom to try and wash his hands.

Locking the door behind him, he carefully undid the scarf around his arm. The devil arm was glowing faintly in the light of the bathroom. He began to try and wash his hands, to scrub the scales off his skin. After minutes of scrubbing, much to his dismay, the scales weren’t coming off. In fact, it felt like it hurt from scrubbing too hard. He turned off the water and dried his hands, wincing from the tenderness of trying (and failing) to wash the scales off. Perhaps tomorrow, if everything went well, he would get Agnus’ help in getting the scales off his arm. In the meantime, he would have to hide it from the public. He wrapped his demonic hand with the scarf and stepped out of the bathroom. He noticed Dante’s gaze on him, a knowing gaze that rubbed him the wrong way. He looked up to his mother, approaching him with a warm plate of pizza slices. He took the plate from her hands with his human hand, watching his mother sit back down. He took a seat on the couch, the seat as far away from Dante as he could. 

“Nero, tell me what happened at the festival.” Cassandra began patiently. “With the tournament.” 

“The tournament?” Nero asked. He glanced up, seeing the tournament trophy in the glass display cabinet, surrounded by awards he had won during school. “I thought I was disqualified…”

“Paride was cheating the entire time. I should’ve caught it earlier but your accusation made me realize what happened.” Dante sighed. 

“And?” Cassandra asked, pressing Nero for his story. 

“...he wounded me.” Nero began. “And taunted me by calling you a...a…” He swallowed, before finally speaking in a very soft voice. “A whore.” He hated the word. He felt his mother’s hand rest on his shoulder. “I was so angry, I just grabbed him and threw him against the wall. I heard something break and something wanted me to break him more, for what he said to you. If Griffon hadn’t yelled at me I…”

“Nero…” He looked up. “May I see your wound?” Nero flinched, looking away from her. “Nero, my little lion, please…”

“I don’t want you to hate me.” He murmured. Cassandra let out a soft gasp. 

“Nero, I would never hate you.” Nero looked to her, to his wrapped up arm, and then back to her. After what felt like eternity between them, he carefully reached down and began to unwrap his arm. He could feel Dante’s eyes on him as well, probably because he only saw a fleeting glance of his demonic arm. When the last of the scarf was unwrapped, he pulled the cloth away. His mother gently took his arm, her fingers delicately holding his arm.

“Vergil…” She murmured. “Earthmother divine, I wonder what he’d give to see you now, Nero.” 

“An arm and a leg, I guess.” Dante mused. Cassandra shot him a glare.

“Vergil? Who’s that?” Nero asked.

“That would be your birth father, Nero.” Cassandra said. 

“...so Dante isn’t my father? I...with the way he was looking at me, I thought he was.” Nero said, feeling a bit dumb now.

“Well, I’m your uncle, so I was wondering if you were actually my nephew.” Dante explained. “When I saw you fighting today, I knew you were Vergil’s kid. He didn’t stand down for anyone.” 

“...Mom. Did we really have to live in poverty?” Nero asked. Cassandra took a deep breath.

“The answer to that requires a bit of context, Nero.” She said. “When I came here to Fortuna from my home city of Eternis Brillia, not everyone was happy about it. Especially one woman, Louella Faye.” Cassandra shuddered at the name. “The day Vergil and I were meant to be wed…”

_ “Do you, Lady Cassandra Sagefire, take Lord Vergil Sparda to be your husband and other half, to take care of him and cherish your relationship? To love him today, tomorrow, and forever? To always be open, honest, and faithful to him. Do you take him to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?” The officiator of the ceremony, Sanctus Abate, asked Cassandra. The young woman beamed to Vergil, bathed in the afternoon sunlight. Her husband-to-be was dressed in white, his coat immaculate and the Yamato at his side. Not too far from Vergil was his twin and the best man of the ceremony, Dante. Dante was also in white, looking as if he was going to explode from excitement from his brother being married. In Vergil’s hand was a glass blue rose, it’s twin in Cassandra’s hands. Cassandra herself was in a beautiful slim wedding dress, the design of blooming growing roses from the bottom of the dress growing upward to the sun. Her hair, now cut from the warm weather, was set in a layered bob. It didn’t hinder the veil on her head, the delicate fabric bearing the design of waves on the sea. Before Cassandra could reply with her ‘I dos’, the doors suddenly burst open. Vergil immediately pulled out the Yamato, stepping in front of Cassandra with a growl. He placed the glass rose on the small table in front of Sanctus. Entering the hall was a woman he didn’t recognize, a woman with short washed out brown hair. Her hair had two purple ribbons in it, keeping the hair out of her eyes. She was in a sort of armored battle dress, a broadsword in her hands. Following her were ten equally-armored people, bearing shortswords.  _

_ “Not if I have anything to say about it!” The woman snarled. _

_ “Louella!” Cassandra gasped. “What are you doing here!?”  _

_ “Stopping you from debasing yourself by marrying that disgusting creature that should have never existed.” Louella growled. “I’m taking you back home.” _

_ “Never.” Cassandra scowled at Louella. “I don’t care who you approve of, it’s none of your fucking buisness.” Louella’s teal eyes widened before narrowing, their coldness returning like a blizzard.  _

_ “So you wish to poison your own blood with this bastard creature? It is neither human nor devil!”  _

_ “Your ideals about purity are bullshit and so are you!” Cassandra snarled. “Now get out of my life!” Louella growled. _

_ “By the order of Lord Nyx, I was told to bring you home alive.” She glanced back at her men. “Leave no survivors. Cassandra will pay today for defiling her heritage and her family name. I will personally kill the man she is to marry.” Louella said, giving her weapon a threatening flourish as she returned her gaze to Cassandra and Vergil. _

_ “Oh goodie, a brawl.” Dante sneered, playful as usual. He swung out Rebellion in front of Vergil. “One last scuffle as a bachelor, Verg?”  _

_ “Implying I will not partake in combat when I am wed, little brother?” Vergil growled. Dante laughed as Louella charged forward. Dante’s Rebellion swung forward, meeting Louella’s blade. The two swords strained against each other before Dante forced her back. Louella growled as she skidded back before charging back recklessly. Dante countered the charge, skidding back a little bit. Vergil and Cassandra stepped back, Sanctus letting out a terrified cry. Vergil glanced back to Sanctus, to Dante and Louella and her men, before back to Sanctus. It was obvious he was trying to figure out how to get Sanctus out of the reception hall of Fortuna Castle without putting him in more danger.  _

_ “FUCK!” Dante snarled, quickly getting Vergil’s attention. Louella had managed to land a hit on him. “Man, that stings!”  _

_ “That would be what sage does to you, half-breed.” Louella smirked. “Now die!” She swung her blade, only for Dante to barely counter her swing with Rebellion. _

_ “Nah, can’t do that.” Dante taunted. “You want my sis-in-law? You’ll have to go through me!” He rushed forward to push her back. Louella stood her ground, straining as the swords met. Vergil shifted, just barely, Cassandra recognizing that he was going to step into the fray to help his brother. Cassandra noticed Louella’s eyes flashed a dangerous golden hue before Dante let out a cry of pain.  _

_ “Dante!” Cassandra gasped at the sight of Louella’s sword in Dante’s chest. Right where his heart was. “Louella, you monster!” _

_ “I came here to retrieve you, Cassandra. And I  _ **_will_ ** _ use any means necessary to do so.” Louella’s eyes darkened. A spectral javelin formed in her other hand. Louella began to mutter in an ancient language, a language Cassandra recognized as a special version of Latin, a Latin that was imbued with something ancient and terrible.  _

_ It was only a moment too late that Cassandra realized that Louella wasn’t looking at Vergil. She was looking directly at her.  _

_ Louella threw the javelin. Cassandra pulled her arms to her, awaiting the deadly impact.  _

_ “Cassandra!” _

_ “VERGIL!”  _

_ She felt something push her away. As her body fell to the ground, she could only watch in horror as Vergil’s body seemed to grow and transform. Vergil took a glance at her, a glance of fear that she had never seen before. _

_ “Run.  _ **_RUN!_ ** _ ” He yelled. Cassandra scrambled to her feet and dashed out of the hall. _

_ “After her!” Louella barked. As Cassandra ran, she heard two roars that forever seared itself into her mind: One of Vergil, agonized in his transformation into a demon. The other she would never know, a roar of feral heartbroken rage. _

“...I fled Fortuna Castle as fast as I could on Alasdair. I think I only managed to escape unscathed that day because of Fury and her wolfpack.” She sighed, taking one of the tissues Nero had handed her during her story to dry her eyes. “I came here and...lived here ever since. Even after Nero was born.” 

“Mama Fury!” Cordelia chirped excitedly.

“Yeah, Fury misses you Cass. She wonders if you’re ever gonna show up again back to the castle.” Dante hummed, watching as Cordelia wandered around the cottage again.

“I’ve been a busy woman Dante. Between raising Nero, working myself to the bone at the horse ranch as a groomer, and living in fear of if Louella survived that day, I hadn’t had the time to go back to Mitis Forest.” Cassandra pointed out. 

“So...we could have lived in not-poverty, but because of this Louella chick, we stayed here?” Nero asked.

“Louella’s dead.” Dante’s voice took a dark tone, enough to make Cordelia stop her wandering and go back to Dante’s side. Cassandra stared at Dante, as if caught off guard by the news of Louella’s demise. “The Order took her down. The Order came in just as you ran out of the castle. Enrico and I took her down together, he took the final blow cause I was still recovering.” 

“But Vergil…”

“Our biggest secret. When Vergil was cursed to look like that...he didn’t take it well. And then I couldn’t find you and…” He squeezed his eyes shut, voice dying in his throat. Nero could only imagine how that sounded. At best, it would be unbelievably sad. Cordelia snaked around Dante’s body and hugged him, tucking her head under his chin to purr gently. He held onto her wing as the other hand went to pet her head. “...Thanks pup.”

“So, if Louella’s dead, we don’t have to live in poverty anymore, right mom?” Nero asked. 

“Well...what about Eternis Brillia? My father?” 

“Dealt with. Eternis Brillia basically groveled at my feet for forgiveness, they claimed they exiled her two years before she crashed the wedding, Nyx has been charged and he ain’t coming out of the city again.” Dante waved his hand. Cassandra stared at him before leaning back, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

“All these years of worrying...fuck character, I want a nice damn massage.” 

“Wait a minute.” Nero looked directly to Dante. “If your brother is my father and he’s trapped in Fortuna Castle, why did he try to attack me!?” Dante stared at him.

“You...actually went into Fortuna Castle?” He asked in shock. 

“...it was Griffon’s idea. Since the Order was chasing us down, he figured we’d have a better chance against...Vergil than against you and Cordelia.” Nero admitted. Griffon let out an awkward noise. Dante turned to the avain familiar, who was trying to not look at Dante. 

“It was Kitty’s idea.” Griffon blurted out. Shadow let out a roar of irritation at that and swiped at Griffon. Griffon squawked, jumping out of the way. “Hey hey HEY! It was your idea!” 

“No, it was yours.” Nero corrected. Griffon slumped in defeat before being flattened by Shadow’s paw.

“FUCK!” Griffon swore. Dante instinctively covered Cordelia’s ears with a hand. She let out a curious chirp at that. When he lowered his hand, she began to nibble it playfully.

“So, this cottage.” Dante spoke up, as if completely oblivious to Cordelia’s nibbling. “Nice cozy place. You raised Nero here?”

“For seventeen years. It was supposed to be our honeymoon cottage.” Cassandra sighed. She looked at the ring on her finger. “That’s why Vergil never told you about this cottage. Didn’t want you popping in to bother us.” Dante frowned. 

“Vergil doesn’t know about Nero...were you going to tell him?”

“Of course, in our vows. I was going to say ‘we do’, because I was expecting at the time. Nero wasn’t much bigger than a seed but the royal physician was certain I was pregnant.” Cassandra sighed. “And then Louella ruined everything.” She looked to Nero before back to Dante, a question hanging in the air that Cassandra couldn’t answer and yet they knew: was Nero truly a legitimate child to the House of Sparda?

“After all these years, Fortuna finds her prince.” Dante hummed. “After all, you two had the rings.” 

“Even though we didn’t say ‘I do’?”

“Yep.” He glanced up to the clock on the wall. “So, Nero, how do you feel about heading back to Fortuna Castle tomorrow afternoon?”   
  


“Why? To meet a father who isn’t interested in me?” Nero spat.

“He doesn’t even know you exist. Knowing him, he probably thinks you’re my kid.” Dante rolled his shoulders. “Man, it’s been a while since I tussled him.” 

“Of course.” Cassandra sighed, rubbing her temples. “You two can’t go a day without a fight.” 

“We’re half demons, what do you expect us to do? Roll over for each other?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you would’ve been nicer to your cursed brother.” Cassandra snarked. Dante snorted at that.

“And where did Àilleachd come from?” Nero asked. 

“Well, I couldn’t take the name of Sparda because I wasn’t married to Vergil properly nor could I use my maiden name Sagefire because of Louella, so I took on Àilleachd. It’s a common surname back home because it means beauty.” She explained. “Anyways, it’s late. It’s been nice reuniting with you, Dante.” Cassandra stood up, walking to the counter to clean up the pizza boxes. Dante stood up as well, Cordelia in one arm. His other hand ruffled Nero’s snow-white hair.

“Adios for now, kid.” He beamed down at his nephew before walking out the door. Nero stayed there on the couch, watching Dante leave before turning to his mother, still putting the pizza boxes in the trash.

“Mom…?” He asked softly. “Who am I?”

“...Anything you want. You can be a Sparda if you want or a Sagefire. It’s your choice.” She said. “Or you can keep Àilleachd. No matter what, I’ll support you.” Nero nodded, looking down at his demonic arm. “Your father was...no, is a half-demon, like your uncle.” She began. “If I had to guess, like them, you can turn into a demon yourself. It’s called Devil Trigger.”

“Will it go away?” He asked. Cassandra looked back to him.

“I don’t know. Dante would know, you can ask him tomorrow. But if it doesn’t, that doesn’t change the fact you’re still my son.” She said, walking over to kiss his head tenderly. Nero instinctively hugged her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder.

“Mom…” 

“I love you, my little lion.” She murmured. 

“It’s just a lot to take in. My father, my arm, why you had to work so hard to protect me…” 

“I would do that and more for you Nero.” Cassandra said, her hands rubbing his back slowly. Mother and son stood there in an embrace, time seeming to still around them until the clock rang out eight times. Cassandra pulled away first, reaching up to fix Nero’s ruffled hair. “Goodnight Nero.”

“Night.” Nero nodded, pulling away. He went up the stairs to his room and changed into his night clothes. He sat down on his bed, ignoring the creak of old springs, but something nagged at him. Something deep and unexplainable that couldn’t get him to just lay down and try and slumber. He looked over to his bedside table and carefully pulled one of the drawers. Mixed in with knick knacks and bubble-gum packs was an old stuffed lion, the size of his hand. It’s golden fur and mane were worn from love and age, when he took the lion everywhere he went, but there was something about old comforts that he felt like he needed in this moment. 

He slowly got off the bed and returned downstairs, heading quietly to his mother’s bedroom. The cottage was dark, including her bedroom. He awkwardly stepped inside, half between chastising himself for acting so childish and the yearning for his mother’s comfort to ease him to sleep. He stayed at the end of her bed, holding onto the plush lion tightly before finally sliding into the bed, cuddling up to his mother.

“Mnn...Nero?”

“Can’t sleep.” He mumbled. Cassandra let out a soft hum and pressed her lips to his head.

“Would you like me to sing you to sleep?” She asked. Nero nodded, not trusting his voice to stay steady. Cassandra gave him a squeeze as she began to sing. 

_ In the field so green and so free, seeds gaze up. _

_ The clouds keeps them from the light, _

_ And the sky cries white tears of snow. _

_ But still…the fragile seeds wait long for the sun to shine _

_ Dark winter away, come spring. _

_ My young seeds once again will look up to the sky, _

_ And I know they will grow strong. _


	6. Another Chance

“So, you’re actually related to Lord Dante?” Kyrie asked. Nero nodded, his demonic arm currently hidden by his coat.

“I’m his nephew, according to him. That’s why he was so interested in me at the Festival.” Nero explained. Kyrie had come over to the cottage with breakfast, warmed pancakes in one box while the other box had various pancake toppings, honey and jam and whipped cream. There were cherries as well, but Kyrie let Nero have the bulk of them. Nero always had a bit of a sweet tooth, given how his pancakes were topped with jam, whipped cream, and four cherries. 

“And he hadn’t seen you...at all. I wonder how he felt, seeing his flesh and blood nephew in the crowd at the festival.” She paused. “Wait, does that make your father Vergil?”

“The Monster of Fortuna Castle? Yeah.” Nero nodded. Kyrie gasped. “It’s a long story but...someone didn’t like that my mom was marrying Vergil based on some blood purity bullsh- I mean...uh…” 

“Ignorance? Malice?” Kyrie offered.

“Malice.” Nero frowned at that. “Nothing short of malice. According to her and Dante, she met her end with the help of the Order but her presence scared my mom so bad she effectively went into hiding. She didn’t reach out to Dante until he came to her after...what I did after the Festival.” He paused. “What did happen anyway?”

“Well, after you ran, Dante jumped out of his viewing box to go after you. I ran out and grabbed his arm, begging for him to not hurt you.” She looked to his arm. “Even if you were a demon...you’re the one who’d climb up a tree to save my kite, who always listened to me sing. Demons wouldn’t do that. That’s what I said to Dante. Shadow also helped.” She looked down, watching as Shadow slurped up a small cup of whipped cream, something Mrs. Elesion called ‘A Shadow-ccino’. “She grabbed the back of his coat and helped in pulling him back. Dante ordered Credo to go bring you back, only to have you questioned but never harmed. Meanwhile, he asked me to lead him to your mother. I told him I only did it if he swore on his word as the Regent Lord of Fortuna not to hurt you or her.” 

“...did he?”

“He did. Although he said it with a...a strange sort of smile. Like that was his plan all along. But I couldn’t risk you or Miss Àilleachd-”

“Sparda.” Kyrie blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Sparda. Since she was supposed to be married to my father and all. It might not be my place to say that but...she’s struggled so much to protect me. In my opinion, she deserves to be called a Sparda. Just like my uncle and I.” He explained. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted you.”

“It’s ok. As I was saying, I couldn’t risk you or Mrs. Sparda getting hurt. I had to make him swear.” Kyrie said. “But I did lead him to Mrs. Sparda’s cottage. She was very surprised to see him...although I think that was because the first thing he did when she opened the door was give her a hug!”

“I can only imagine.” Nero murmured, taking another bite of pancake. “Um...did I manage to knock Paride down a little?”  
  


“Well, you broke his wrist.” Kyrie said casually. “Miss Uhtric was tending to him, overseen by Lord Bazzoli.” Nero nodded. “Nero, what are you planning to do today?”

“Hm? Well, Dante’s coming by this afternoon to take me to my father. It’s...nerve wracking.”

“I think you two will be fine.” Kyrie reached over to rest her hand on Nero’s demonic hand. He jolted a little before blushing a bright red. Kyrie chuckled. “Will your mother be joining you?”

“No, she’s busy. She’s going to quit her job at the horse ranch. She called Dante earlier to get paperwork so that the crown can support us. We’re not going to be on the edge of poverty anymore.” Something about saying that aloud felt freeing, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Kyrie beamed at the news. “Things are really looking up for you now!” 

_‘Now to earn your love…’_ Nero thought, unable to stop himself from smiling. A knock on the door caused the two to look up. Shadow lifted her head up from the cup of whipped cream, her maw covered in white. Nero got up and opened the door, seeing Dante at the door. He still looked the same as he did yesterday, aside from the big smile on his face. 

“Oh! Lord Dante!” Kyrie gasped. “Are you here for breakfast?”

“I already ate.” Dante said. Nero scowled.

“What happened to ‘afternoon’? It’s 10am!” 

“It’ll take us an hour to get there, it’ll be afternoon when we arrive!” Dante complained. Nero groaned, his demonic hand slapping against his face. Kyrie giggled.

“Nero, how about you finish your pancakes first before you go with Lord Dante?” Kyrie suggested. Nero walked away from the front door, plopping himself back in his chair and resuming eating his pancakes. Dante casually strode inside, flopping down on the couch. Shadow walked over to him, placing her front paws on his lap and lifting himself up to sniff him. 

“Hey fluffball.” Dante said with a smile, scratching the back of Shadow’s ears. Shadow let out a meow and licked his cheek. “Aww, who’s a good kitty? You are!”

“Dammit, if mom doesn’t spoil Shadow enough.” Nero grumbled. 

“I think she deserves it.” Kyrie said gently. Nero relaxed a little at Kyrie’s affirmation before finishing up the last of his pancakes. 

“Thank you for bringing breakfast Kyrie.” Nero stood up, taking the plates to the sink to wash them. Kyrie jumped up and walked to the sink. “No, you don’t have to wash the dishes, you’re the guest and all.” 

“Oh…” She stared at him, as if she was caught off guard by Nero taking charge of doing the dishes. She nodded and stepped back to her breakfast to finish her pancakes. Nero could feel Dante’s eyes on the back of his head as he washed the dishes. Kyrie turned to Dante. “So, how’s Cordelia?”

“Being mischievous, as usual. She’s quite fond of those raspberry hard candies on Credo’s desk.” 

“Oh...I...ok?” She tilted her head a little. “I’m glad she likes them…” She finished up her pancakes and got up to hand the dishes to Nero. 

“Aww, don’t you two look like the perfect picture of domestic bliss.” He teased. Kyrie nearly dropped the dishes at that. Nero caught the dishes instinctively before realizing his two hands were still in the sink. He looked over, seeing the spectral form of his demonic arm holding onto the dishes Kyrie nearly dropped.

“Uh…”

“Um…” 

The two stared at each other before Nero quickly took the dishes and placed them into the sink. The spectral hand disappeared, leaving Nero to wash the rest of the dishes by himself. He didn’t look at Kyrie, too embarrassed to do so. Kyrie turned to the leftover pancakes still in the plastic bin she brought with her.

“Nero, do you know if Mrs. Sparda had breakfast or not?”

“Uh, no, I don’t. I slept in.” Nero said. “Mom’d like it if you left them for her though.” Kyrie nodded and closed the bin, placing it in the refrigerator. “Thank you for the food, by the way.” Nero said. Kyrie smiled at him.

“Of course Nero.” Nero rinsed the dishes and put them in the drying rack. Drying his hands, he watched as Dante stood up. 

“Alright kiddo, let’s go meet your dad.” Dante said as he made his way to the door. Nero sighed and followed him out the door.

“Oh, Nero!” Kyrie exclaimed. “Before I forget.” She ran up to him and gave him a quick peck of the lips. “The kiss I promised.” Nero stared at her, blushing a deep red. “Have a good day!” She bowed to Nero and Dante before quickly rushing out of the cottage back to the Elesion Bakery. Nero watched as she ran back home, the stun quickly forming into a fond smile. 

“Alright, come on kiddo.” Dante said, bringing Nero out of his thoughts. “We got people to meet.” Nero stepped out of the cottage, locking the door behind them.

With that, Dante led Nero to the edge of Mitis Forest. Nero blinked in confusion as they walked to the forest’s edge. 

“I thought we were going to the gates of the castle.” Nero asked. Dante laughed.

“We’re just taking the long way.” He explained. Taking two fingers to his lips, he let out a loud sharp whistle. After a few quiet minutes, Nero heard the sound of footsteps and flapping wings. Flopping atop of Dante with a loud ‘OOMF!’ was Cordelia, who chittered proudly at ‘catching her master off guard’. Fury dashed out of the forest, skidding in front of Nero. She began to happily lick Nero’s face.

“Hey! S-Stop that!” Nero squirmed as the wolf licked his face. “Stooop!”

“Nope, too late.” Dante groaned as he pushed himself off the ground. “She likes you. I mean, it makes sense, she likes your mom too.” 

“So that makes me a Sparda, huh?” Nero huffed, wiping his face of wolf slobber. 

“Yep. She’s Mom’s familiar. Fury only accepts those that either Mom trusts, like the Elesions, or those related to her and Dad, like me, Verg, Cass, and you.” Dante explained as he hoisted himself on Cordelia’s back. “You better hop on kid.” Nero blinked before hoisting himself onto Fury’s back. “These two like to race.” Dante looked to the winged wolf. “Betcha Cordelia’s gonna beat you to Castle Fortuna!” Cordelia suddenly took off. Fury let out a snarl and dashed across the forest, Nero holding onto her fur as tightly as he could. He buried his face into her fur as the winged wolf zipped through the trees to Fortuna Castle.

_‘If she runs this fast all the time, I’ll never get used to this!’_ He thought. He heard the wolf let out a snarl before the sound of paws against dirt disappeared. He pulled back and let out a cry as he found himself in the air. “WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH HEY! PUT ME DOWN!” He heard Dante’s laughter as the wolf flew in the air, held aloft by the winds. 

“What?! You thought those wings were for show!?” 

“SHUT UP!” Nero snarled. “WOLVES DON’T FLY!” Fury suddenly dropped, earning an undignified scream from the young prince. As the wolf landed gracefully on the forest floor, he heard Dante howling with laughter above. Nero grumbled as the castle came into view. Cordelia landed on what Nero presumed was the main path up to the castle, not the secret passage he had found. As Fury trotted up to Cordelia and Dante, Cordelia was looking very smug at her victory over Fury. Nero carefully got off the winged wolf, legs shaking.

“I really don’t want to go flying again unless I have too.” He said with a scowl. Dante only laughed, petting his familiar. She seemed to have shrunk herself to fit into Dante’s hand. Nero wondered when the populace heard Dante laugh, when anyone heard him laugh. Given what most people knew of their lord, hearing him sound so...happy must be a miracle. 

“Hey kid.” Nero blinked, realizing he must have been staring. “Come on.” Dante jerked his head to the front doors of the castle, Cordelia already moving to settle on his shoulders. Nero nodded and followed Dante to the castle’s imposing doors. Nero felt dwarfed by the doors, depicting the crest of House Sparda. Dante pushed the doors open with little fanfare, light pouring into the reception hall. 

Nero noticed it had remained unchanged since his visit yesterday, it still looked like a wedding was supposed to take place but never happened, the banners and chairs left as they were. As the two walked inside, Cordelia hid herself in the collar of Dante’s coat. The doors slammed shut behind them.

“ **_Why have you returned, brother?_ ** ” A voice boomed. “ **_And you taunt me by bringing him!_ **” Dante rolled his eyes.

“Vergil, you really think I’d make a move on your wife?” Dante asked. The voice did not respond. “Come on, be honest.”

“ **_...it’s impossible. If she showed any sign, I did not see it._ **” Nero felt his heart sink at that. It sounded sad, as if his father expected either Dante or Cassandra to drift to the other and be happy. 

“Well, get your ass out of the dark and see your kid!” Dante slapped his hand on Nero’s shoulder, causing the young man to wince. Nero watched as, from the shadows, Vergil stepped out. Now with Dante and not scared out of his wits, Nero could get a proper look at his father’s cursed state. He was at least significantly taller than Dante, but not overwhelmingly so. If Nero had to guess, Vergil was roughly nine feet tall. Maybe a little taller. The eyes on his body focused on Nero intently. Vergil knelt down to get a closer look at Nero, analytical green meeting Nero’s own blue, staring right back at him. A tense silence passed before he heard an audible gasp from Vergil.

“ **_Cassandra…_ ** ” He stepped away, as if retreating from Nero. “ **_You look so much like her…_ ** ” Nero raised an eyebrow. While the most noticeable features must have been from Vergil, there must have been enough of his mother for him to recoil like that. “ **_I’m a monster._ **”

“Oh no, we’re not going down that rabbit hole.” Dante stepped forward, ready to pull Vergil out of that state of mind. 

“ **_I NEARLY KILLED HIM!_ ** ” Vergil snarled at him. Nero winced at the sound. “ **_I NEARLY KILLED MY OWN SON!_ **” 

“Do you want me to get Mom involved?!” Dante demanded. “Because I bet you Cordelia can fly faster than your attempt to gra-”

“Enough!” Nero yelled, stepping forward. Dante and Vergil stared at him. “Look, I’m not upset at you.” He said to Vergil. “I only found out you were my dad last night. You were just startled and trying to protect the last memory you had of my mom.” Vergil glanced back to the table, to the delicate glass rose. “So...can we...you know, start over? Because I don’t want to cut you out over a misunderstanding.” Dante, keeping his mouth shut (for once), stared intently at Vergil. Vergil stared at his son before lowering his head.

“ **_Thank you._ ** ” He murmured, relaxing. “ **_May I have your name?_ **”

“Nero. It’s Nero.” 

“ **_Nero…_ ** ” Vergil murmured. “ **_A fine name._ **” 

“I mean, my mother did give it to me.” Nero huffed, crossing his arms. 

“ **_Cassandra...where is she?_ **” Vergil turned to Dante.

“She’s busy getting paperwork signed. I only found out Nero and Cassandra had been living in Fortuna yesterday, out of sight, out of mind.” Dante explained. “I think we both know why.” Vergil scowled. Even unsaid, Nero just knew who they were talking about: Louella. “Hey, I’ll give Nero the tour of the place.” Dante said cheerfully, grabbing Nero’s human arm.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Nero yelped as Dante dragged him to a door. “Let me go asshole! I can walk myself!” He squirmed as Dante pushed the door open. It closed behind them, leaving Vergil alone with his thoughts. Vergil slowly turned to the glass rose, his lips faintly curled into a smile.

_‘When was the last time I felt...hope?’_


	7. Books and Moonlight

Nero’s legs hurt. They hurt like  _ fuck _ .

Dante had pulled him all over Fortuna Castle like he was some tourist guide, even using Cordelia’s tail as some sort of flag. He had been everywhere from the (barren and dust-choked) servant’s quarters to the highest tip of the castle. Now his legs hurt, it was dark and probably too dangerous to head home, and he was feeling particularly grouchy. So he was here, in Fortuna Castle, with Dante heading off to bed without telling Nero where exactly the bedrooms were.

On the bright side, Griffon had swung by earlier with food, relieved that Nero wasn’t a half-demon smear on the floor (his words). With his arrival, he revealed something about himself, Shadow, and Nightmare: all of them were Vergil’s creations. 

“Wait, you mean that my dad was watching over me this entire time?” Nero had asked between mouthfuls of bread. 

“Eh, not really. Vergil made us but he told us to find your mom and protect her at all costs. So that’s what we did.” The avian explained. “Didn’t expect you to pop out but we did our jobs as ordered. He never told us to come back, after all.” Nero looked down at his bread roll and sighed. “Look, I’ve only been kicking here for seventeen years, but I know Vergil would die for you-”

“Don’t say that.” Nero snapped. “I’m not losing him.” Griffon fluffed up his wings.

“Hey, I’m just sayin’ it.” Griffon said casually before taking flight. “Don’t shoot the messenger and all that jazz.” He added before he flew out of the castle to return back to his mother. 

Nero tossed the conversation out of his mind as he opened a door. Stepping inside, he found himself in a sizable library. In the middle, where he expected couches and tables to be, was a large nest-like bed. The tables and couches were moved to the edge of the room. Had he accidentally entered Vergil’s new bedroom, with his own bed too small for his cursed state? By all accounts, Nero should leave and find somewhere else to go to, but something...something just made him stay. His feet led him to the bookshelves, his demonic hand illuminating the titles in the shelves. 

_ ‘Huh, lots of imported titles.’ _ He thought. He certainly wouldn’t find these in the local library. Most of the books were of languages he wasn’t familiar with, titles he’d more than likely butcher trying to say. Other books were more academic, about matters of governing a state and economics and keeping the populace content not to rebel against one’s rule. As he walked along the bookshelves against the walls, he paused, his eyes focusing on a certain book he remembered vividly from his childhood.

The Gladiolus Crest by Lucian Amicitia. 

It was a book his mother read to him at night, the tale of a queen who’s heart was torn between two suitors: a male-chavuenstic demon hunter and a loyal golden-hearted demon. The queen chose the demon over the hunter, who was slain for his vices. He slowly pulled out the book and flipped open the front cover. In the front of the book was fine handwriting, flowy but legible.

_ To my blue rose, with love. _

“ **_Your mother gave that book to me. It was a book her mother gave her before her passing._ ** ” A familiar voice spoke behind him. Nero jumped and whipped around, seeing Vergil was standing behind him, his eyes focused on the book in Nero’s hand. Nero looked back to the book.

“It’s...a bit thicker than I remember it.” He said awkwardly. 

“ **_I would imagine that the book’s more...violent scenes were changed for more general readers._ ** ” Vergil mused. “ **_What Cassandra gave me was an original copy of the book._ ** ” Vergil let out a soft sigh, the melancholy in it not lost to the young man. 

“Have you read it recently?” Nero asked carefully.

“ **_No. It isn’t the same without her reading the book to me._ ** ” Vergil said. “ **_And I fear harming it. It is one of the very few gifts I have from her._ ** ” Aside from the glass rose, Nero mused. He looked to Vergil, to the book, and then back to his father.

“Would you like me to read it to you?” He asked. “I mean, it won’t be the same but-”

“ **_I’d like that very much._ ** ” A light pink began to color Nero’s cheeks. Nero watched as his father settled on the nest bed. After a few moments, Nero followed him. Vergil laid down on the nest, covering himself with a sort of blanket Nero swore was probably a curtain at some point. He rested his chin against his hand, obviously interested in the prospect of his own son reading to him. Nero carefully settled himself in the nest, leaning against his father’s chest (and trying not to accidentally lay on one of the many eyes). He carefully opened the book to the first page and began to read. 

As the hours drifted by, Nero occasionally glanced at his father. He noticed that Vergil was listening rather intently to his reading. That changed quickly enough as, after the second chapter, he noticed Vergil was starting to drift into slumber. Nero closed the book and got up to set it on the only table in the room.

“ **_Why did you stop?_ ** ” Vergil sleepily murmured. 

“You’re nodding off.” Nero said as he returned to his father. Vergil grumbled and shifted to lay on his back. “It’s late.”

“ **_...perhaps._ ** ” Vergil admitted softly. Nero laid down, pulling one of the ‘blankets’ to him to curl up under. “ **_Knowing Dante, he will try and urge us to eat his ‘breakfast specialty’_ ** ”

“What’s that?”

“ **_Pizza. With eggs, hot sauce, bacon, and pineapple._ ** ” Vergil scowled at the thought. “ **_I hate pineapple._ ** ” 

“I do too. Too sweet.” Nero made a face. “And with pizza? Forget about it.” He swore he heard his father chuckle. 

“ **_I quite agree. Now, if it was olives, I...ahh…_ ** ” Vergil let out a yawn, slowly lowering his head. “ **_I...mn…_ ** ” He closed his green eyes, slipping into slumber. Nero laid down next to his father, curling up in the blanket. He felt a hand pull his body close to his father, resting him against his side. Nero looked up, seeing the slumbering face of his father, before back to the curtain that was being used as a blanket. It must’ve been some sort of demonic instinct to protect. He remembered reading about how certain demons had a strong parental instinct to protect their pups (as young demons were called). Perhaps this curse brought his demonic side to full light, including all the instincts that came with it. He curled up, closing his eyes and letting his forehead rest against his father’s scaled body. 

Somehow...it felt just like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but the next will make up for it with some plot development. Ooooh.


	8. Fortuna's Rest

_Meanwhile..._

Fortuna had many watering holes and places of gathering. Out of all of them, from the docks to the heart of the city, there was one particular spot that was the most popular amongst the locals: A tavern in the center of the city named Fortuna’s Rest. The tavern was as old as the city itself, often full of life in the twilight hours. Within the tavern, the people were making merry, talking about everything from the festival yesterday to the weather, the bounty the ocean gave the fishermen, and the best wine for the offered meals by the barkeeps. The tavern was bathed in warmth, the hard wood scuffed from years of foot traffic and the scraping of chairs. At the other end of the expansive room was a roaring hearth. Atop the hearth was a pastoral painting of a lady in red, gathering grapes to turn into wine, her auburn hair illuminated by the rays of a painted sun. In the distance was the Castle Town of Fortuna, the castle looming over the town. Beyond that, the seas that fed Fortuna fresh fish. 

It was here, surrounded by a few gal pals, where Kyrie sat. 

Kyrie watched as Nico went on about her father’s frustration with Paride, only occasionally broken by Taylor’s nodding. The trio were in casual clothes but Nico always had some sort of smudge or stain on her clothes. The shyer brunette, Taylor, had borne the brunt of Paride’s pigheadedness, something that Kyrie felt awful for. It was her idea to come to Fortuna’s Rest in the first place and she had bought Taylor dinner to hopefully make up for that awful experience. Nico, of course, was Taylor’s best friend and she was the one animatedly talking about the event. 

“And he kept flirting with her, like a goddamn creep!” Nico huffed. “And everyone knows that she’s head over heels for that Bruno guy-”

“We’re actually a couple now…” Taylor shyly corrected. 

“Oh, congratulations!” Nico beamed. “Anyways, everyone knows they’re a thing. Paride just doesn’t understand no and probably wouldn’t even when it bites him in the butt.” 

“Or breaks his wrist.” Kyrie added. Nico grinned.

“Didja see Nero’s fancy arm after Paride got him?” She asked excitedly. “Damn, makes me wish he was here so I could get a look at it! I know my daddy does as well but I called dibs.” Kyrie nodded with an amused smile. She vividly remembered the scarlet scales, the blue glow that looked like an artery, and wicked claws that the mere thought of excited her. The strength the arm bore, apparent after Nero grabbed the front of Paride’s shirt and tossed him against the wall, also had her quite interested. “Hey Kyrie? Kyrie? You there?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, is something the matter?” Kyrie blinked, staring at Nico. Nico snickered.

“You’re thinking about that arm of his alright.” Kyrie blushed and awkwardly sipped the water she had ordered. “Come on, don’t deny it! You’ve had heart-eyes for Nero as long as I’ve known you!” 

“Nero’s so nice to me though.” Kyrie pointed out. “He’s been friends with my brother and I for as long as I can remember…” She said. Even though Nero went to the secular school in the city while her and Credo went to more prestigious schools, it never hampered their friendship. In fact, she remembered when he had scaled the building of the upper secondary school she attended to reach the nurses office. He had brought with him a book she had wanted and a very small box of chocolates (a sampler size, if she remembered correctly). The memory always made her smile. Nero always wanted to help and support her. They were all the best of friends, peas in a pod, and all those metaphors. 

In the end, Nero was someone she could depend on, no matter what happened.

The doors suddenly burst open, causing the three to wince. Kyrie felt her heart drop as Paride strode with that irritating cockiness. She looked to Taylor and Nico, narrowing her eyes.

“Quickly, get out of here, my brother and I can handle Paride.” She murmured. Nico nodded and turned to Taylor.

“Hey Tay, how about we head on outta here?” Nico said, a bit loudly. “Daddy’s got some stuff we need to look over and organize.” 

“Y-Yes.” Taylor nodded, taking a bread roll and standing up. Nico quickly hooked her arm around Taylor’s and dragged her out of the tavern. Kyrie noticed that her brother, standing at the bar and talking to an Order colleague, noticed Taylor and Nico quickly heading out. His eyes glanced to the table they had been sitting at, meeting Kyrie’s honey brown. She nodded at her brother, who resumed talking to his colleague. Paride walked to the bar, leaning against the hardwood. It was obvious that his broken wrist was merely a setback, as he had fully recovered with the help of Taylor’s alchemy. Kyrie slowly drank her glass of water, watching as the crowd poured praise onto Paride, as if unaware that he had cheated in the tournament. He didn’t even win! Nero won by technicality! 

Perhaps they just ignored that part, because Nero was considered a bastard. Kyrie knew that Cassandra kept to herself and the fact that she was an unmarried woman (technically) with a son with unnaturally white hair made her the subject of much of the town’s gossip. She always seemed to brush it off with grace but Kyrie wondered if said gossip ever bothered her, in the darkness of a lonely bedroom. But whatever Cassandra struggled with internally, she never showed it. As far as she remembered, she was the kind but stern mother of Nero, the hardworking woman who slaved over her tasks to make sure Nero was fed and clothed and happy. It was honestly very admirable, something that Kyrie hoped she could provide to any children of her own in the very far future. 

A future that did not involve Paride. 

“Credo!” Paride’s voice roused her from her thoughts. Paride walked over to Credo, who was giving him a (surprisingly polite) glare. “Did you ever capture that bastard?”

“I’m afraid we were told to call off the chase by Lord Dante.” Credo said carefully. “I have full faith in our lord’s judgement. Including the judgement of your loss in the tournament.” 

“Tch, I totally beat him. Nero cheated as well with that fell arm of his.”

“One that you brought to light with your illegal maneuver, Acardi.” 

“Details, details.” Paride waved his hand. He left the commander at the bar, ignoring the glare that he was certainly receiving, and made his way to Kyrie. “Milady.”

“Paride.” Kyrie greeted, cool and composed. “It’s nice to see your wrist has recovered.” There was no love in her words, merely pleasantries from being in a social setting. Paride beamed at her.

“A shame that the glory of winning the tournament went to him.” His beaming face faltered, just a little. “I’m sure demonic aid is illegal.”

“You started it. I was there, I saw you.” Kyrie pointed out. “Taunting him like t-” She stopped, noticing that he was walking away. She let out a frustrated sigh. Of course, he was conveniently ignoring the truth, wrapped up in his own little world that he somehow won that tournament so he wouldn’t have to face the truth: that he lost to Nero through cheating. He would never accept that so he was denying it, somehow crafting a dozen lies in his head. She watched as Paride ordered a pair of glasses of scarlet wine. He brought the glasses to her, setting one down in front of her. Kyrie made a point not to touch the wine, not trusting anything Paride brought her. 

“Let’s not talk about the tournament. Instead, let’s talk about our future.”

“OUR future?” Kyrie stared at him incredulously. “Whatever are you talking about!?” 

“Ooh...A rustic hunting lodge, my latest kill roasting on the fire.” He paused. “My non-demon kill. I would never roast a demon. Ahh, and my sweet wife, massaging my feet, while the little ones play with the dogs.” Paride hummed, lost in a fantasy that disgusted Kyrie. “We’ll have six or seven.”

“Dogs?” Kyrie asked. _‘Please say dogs, please say dogs. Don’t say what I think you’re going to say-’_

“No, Kyrie! Strapping boys, like me!” Paride grinned at her. Kyrie felt like she was going to wither on the spot. “Noble young men, carrying on the legacy of the Elesions and the Acardis!”

“Imagine that…” Kyrie murmured with a frown.

“And do you know who that wife will be?” Paride asked. Kyrie shook her head. The vision of her he had in his mind was nothing like her. "Lady Kyrie Elesion." Paride got up from the chair and down on one knee in front of her. The tavern fell silent with gasps of excitement. "Would you do me the honor of being Lady Kyrie Acardi?" Kyrie stared at Paride. She glanced up at the people in the tavern, waiting for her to give some kind of response. She could see Credo, shifting to leave the bar and step in to stop Paride.

"I..." She stepped back, the chair scraping the floor as she ended up on her feet. Her hand found the untouched glass of wine that had been poured for her, whether it was in celebration of her performance yesterday or Paride’s poor attempt to inhibit her judgement, she couldn’t say. The most likely answer was the latter, causing shock to quickly turn into anger. "How dare you think I would lower myself to marry you!?"

"I'm sorry?" Paride asked in surprise. She threw the poured wine on Paride's face, earning a surprised cry from the older man. 

"I will never marry a creep that cheats for his own gain! After all, I was raised with better standards than _you_." With that, knowing full well the eyes on her and not caring that her reputation was probably destroyed from publicly denying a marriage proposal from another noble, she dashed out of the tavern, leaving Paride on the floor covered in wine. 

The tavern erupted into cheers as the doors behind Kyrie slammed shut, as if mocking Paride for his failure to court and get Kyrie’s hand in marriage. Even then, it was known that Credo’s permission had to be acquired first and Credo certainly never gave him that blessing. Credo smirked as he stared at the shocked Paride, covered in wine. That smirk disappeared as Paride stood, rounding to the commander with death in his eyes.

“CREDO!” He roared, storming up to the commander. “How dare you let your sister do something so disgraceful!”

“Says the man who did not even bother asking for my permission to marry her.” He retorted. Paride sputtered angrily. “You do realize that my sister’s dowry is far beyond what you can afford.” 

“I know you only keep the threat of a dowry because you want her to marry a whoreson!” Paride snarled. “I’ve seen how you treat Nero, you give him preferential treatment-”

“Do not.”

“You LET him escape!”

“Lord Dante told me to let him go. And so I did. You are not Lord of Fortuna.” 

“I _will_ have Kyrie for my wife. Make no mistake about that.” Paride hissed. “We’re perfect for each other! The wealth of both-”

“Enough.” Credo’s eyes narrowed at Paride. He stood to his full height, staring down at the other noble. “Do you truly believe that your meager threats hold sway over me.” He growled. “I know how you treat my sister. You see her as nothing more than a prize to be won, either by your pathetic excuse for guile or by force. Do you believe I did not hear what you said to _my_ sister? I would rather have a commoner for an in-law if nobles like you treat my sister as nothing more than breeding stock. I want my sister to be happy with whoever she decides to be with and I know that you will not provide it.”

“You don’t know that-” Paride began, only for Credo to cut him off.

“I’ve heard enough about you from Kyrie. I have seen enough of you to know. If she told you ‘no’ once before, is that not enough for you to realize that she isn’t interested?” He asked. Paride didn’t have a response, only a look of indignation.

“Would you really have the line of Elesion defiled by a common-” 

“What matters is my sister’s happiness, not bloodlines.” Credo cut him off once more. “Get out of my sight and never speak to my sister again.” With that, Credo left the tavern, leaving nothing but silence behind him. Paride huffed and stalked to a corner, taking a seat in the shadows, glowering at the dark and scuffed floor. 

How dare Kyrie reject him like that! Throwing perfectly good wine on him, saying such words to him! The disrespect she threw upon him was unimaginable! _He_ was the most suitable suitor for Kyrie, the best of the best of the noble houses of Fortuna, next to the House of Sparda. After all, House Acardi was the House of the Huntmasters, who slew demons and non-demons alike for House Sparda. The Order of the Sword may be the peacekeepers of Fortuna but whatever lay beyond the edges of the Castle Town was the purview of House Acardi. He scowled at Credo’s words.

_‘I would rather have a commoner as an in-law.’_

Of course, that bastard Nero! That had to be the reason why Credo refused every offer from every noble house in Fortuna. Credo was, on purpose, sullying the legacy of House Elesion by allowing Kyrie and Nero to be together, _to fall in love_. He spat at the thought. The sons of sluts deserved to be on the streets, licking the boots of their masters, the nobles of Fortuna. Even thinking about Nero made his blood boil. The event of the tournament played in his mind, scales crawling up Nero’s arm from the wound he inflicted onto him, once blue eyes crimson and staring at him with hatred and malice. He swore he heard Nero mutter under his breath as he approached him, looking ready to crush his ribs in for calling his mother a whore (which was true. Even though she claimed his father was dead, everyone knew that it was Dante. It was one of those unsaid things but Cassandra wasn’t from Fortuna. Hell, she probably was a foriegn courtesan from the mainland!). 

As Paride brooded in the corner, a plan began to form in his head. Sure, the other noble houses wouldn’t give him aid but the masses, dumb and easily roused to fight, could. He just needed something to rally them to fight, a cause that they could understand and go for. As he thought, Mitis Forest came to mind. His brooding glare changed to a predatory smirk. He lifted himself from the corner and exited the tavern into the night.

He had a wolf to hunt and a wife to win.


	9. Return of the Queen

Nero skidded back as the spectral figure slammed into him, the spectral weapon straining against Red Queen. The skies above were dark with clouds, hinting at an oncoming rainstorm. Nero glanced up, meeting blank ghostly eyes, before pushing back against the ghostly doppelganger of his father. The doppelganger stumbled back before settling into a fighting position, letting out a warped exhale. Not that spectral doppelgangers could breathe, per say, but Nero shook the stray thought from his mind.

“ **_Again._ **” His father rumbled above them. Nero let out a heavy sigh, twisting the handle of Red Queen to bring it to life. After a somewhat awkward breakfast (Dante’s breakfast pizza speciality was covered in pineapple slices. Even his own familiar didn’t like the pineapples!), Vergil had expressed desire to see his son’s combative abilities. The look of interest in Vergil’s eyes was hard to miss, especially after Dante off-handedly mentioned that Nero built Red Queen himself from the blueprints of the officer’s Durandal. Obviously, the weapon was altered to fit Nero and his strength, a significant gap between him and typical humans, but the interest from Vergil was plain to see.

So here was Nero, in the central courtyard of Fortuna Castle, fighting against the spectral doppelganger his father had summoned. The doppelganger had waited for Nero’s first strike before countering but Nero could only stare. The summoned doppelganger looked rather young, not much older than himself if Nero was honest. He wondered if the doppelganger was what Vergil saw himself as still. He had seen some of the paintings around the castle that matched the doppelganger: a young man, proud and serious, a blade by his side and ready to meet the world. 

Well, not quite. The paintings always depicted him with an elegant katana, the blade Dante referred to as Yamato. The doppelganger’s weapon was a more plain longsword with a peculiar handguard, in the shape of a demon’s horns. When Nero began to fight the doppelganger, he quickly figured out not to underestimate the spectral form. 

Getting nicked by that blade, despite all appearances of being not much more than a ghost, _hurt_.

“Hyyraah!” Nero roared, the tip of Red Queen slamming against the flat side of the doppelganger’s broadsword. The doppelganger skidded backwards from the force before a final upward strike turned the doppelganger to glowing blue mist. Nero flopped down on his butt, panting heavily.

“ **_Ag-_ **”

“Let me have a breather!” Nero snapped. “Jeez, we’ve been fighting since breakfast.” He noticed a twinge of regret on his father’s face before he looked away.

“ **_My apologies._ ** ” He murmured. “ **_Who taught you how to fight?_ **” 

“Uh...Enrico. And then Credo.” Nero said. “Enrico taught me the basics at Mom’s request. Credo helped, and the rest was from me taking down demons in Mitis Forest and putting my own spin on what I was taught.” 

“ **_Enrico…_ ** ” Vergil murmured. “ **_Good. He’s a good man._ **” Nero nodded in agreement. 

“He...he helped in raising me for as long as I can remember. Him and Cecilia. When Mom was busy working, I was with them-”

“ **_With them?_ ** ” Nero noticed his voice had come closer. He looked up, realizing that Vergil had jumped down from the pathways above the courtyard to sit next to him. “ **_Was Dante not there to help you?_ **” There was a hint of irritation, as if he blamed Dante for not being around when Nero was young. 

“Not quite.” Nero said, scooting over to lean against his father. “What happened that day scared my mom. She kept me hidden away from Dante out of fear that I’d get hurt by someone who wanted me dead.” The wince he noticed on his father’s face made it clear he knew exactly what Nero was talking about: Louella. Vergil slowly nodded.

“ **_Cassandra...if only that accursed woman did not come that day._ ** ” Vergil growled. “ **_If only I had more power to stop her. If only-_ **” 

“Dad.” Vergil whipped his head to Nero, staring at the young man. “What’s happened happened. You can’t just blame yourself forever.” A quiet fell between them, broken only by distant birdsong. Perhaps Cordelia in her magpie form? He wasn’t sure, he never was good with telling birds apart by their songs.

“ **_...it is hard not to. I have been alone in this castle for seventeen years, with nothing but my thoughts and memories to accompany me._ ** ” Vergil admitted, his voice soft and full of pain. “ **_In that accursed woman’s dying breaths, she claimed that the curse could only be broken by the love of my child. For all these years, I thought my curse would never be broken, that I was doomed to be a demon until my brother could not protect me from demon hunters._ ** ” Nero nodded. “ **_The fact that you’re here-_ **” He was suddenly cut off when a drop of rain landed on his nose. He looked up, watching as the rain began to pour from the darkened clouds above. Nero yelped and scrambled to his feet, sprinting inside. When he looked back, he saw his father was still sitting there, the rain beginning to pour. Nero frowned.

“CUT THAT SHIT OUT AND GET YOUR ASS INSIDE BEFORE YOU GET SICK!” He yelled. Vergil gave him a look before slowly getting up and following Nero inside. Nero helped him in before darting off. A few minutes later, he returned with one of Vergil’s curtain blankets, this one a deep yellow. It was probably gold at one point in time, before being pulled off it’s rack and used as a blanket. He wrapped it around his shoulders (with the help of the spectral arm of his newly christened Devil Bringer, named so by Dante). “Please tell me you didn’t sit out in the rain before Dante and I arrived.”

Vergil didn’t respond. Nero let out an exasperated sigh. The silence meant ‘probably’, because he couldn’t imagine Dante spending all his time in Fortuna Castle. He had an island nation to rule over, disputes to solve, laws to pass. He glowered at his father, who was still irritatingly silent about the whole thing. He leaned back on his heels, arms crossed. 

“Dad.” Vergil glanced up to him. “No more sitting out in the rain. You’ll get a cold.”

“ **_We don’t get s-_ **”

“I don’t care.” Nero cut him off. “I don’t care how long you’ve been here moping around about what you lost. I’m here now. I’m not going to let you not take care of yourself.” Vergil stared at his son before chuckling. 

“ **_You sound so much like your mother. And mine as well._ **” He said. Nero blinked.

“Your mother…?”

“ **_Yes. The last queen of Fortuna._ ** ” Vergil pulled the curtain close to him. “ **_I have not seen her in so long...her and my father live on an island not too far from here. They retired and the crown was supposed to be passed on to your mother and I._ ** ” The two both knew what happened that day, it didn’t need to be said. “ **_It ended up on Dante’s lap, to rule in my stead. He spent the majority of his time with me but the times he could not...were hard._ **” He lowered his head to rest it on his knee. Nero relaxed a little. 

“Yeah, I know that feeling.” He murmured. “People always talked shit about me. They thought that my mother was…” He frowned, unable to say it. Vergil nodded.

“ **_It was the opinion of many that she was a mere courtesan._ ** ” Vergil growled. “ **_She was more than that. She was equal parts beauty and danger._ ** ” His scowl changed into a faint nostalgic smile. “ **_She beat me in a duel once._ **”

“She did?” Nero asked. “Mom never indicated she was a sword fighter.”

“ **_She was. And an elegant one at that._ ** ” Vergil closed his eyes, lost in memory. “ **_She was skilled with a rapier and fought with the elegance of a dancer. But I underestimated how fast she struck and I found myself on my back, the point of her rapier in my face. Dante refused to let me live it down for weeks._ ** ” Nero snickered at that. Vergil gave him a half-hearted glare. “ **_I’m surprised she did not teach you how to fight herself._ **”

“She worked all the time, like I said.” Nero said. “She just didn’t have the time to teach me. She left it to Enrico and Credo. If she knew that...that woman had kicked the bucket earlier, I bet she would’ve let Dante teach me as well.”

“ **_...I’d rather have Enrico teach you instead of Dante._ ** ” Vergil admitted, looking rather hesitant. “ **_The thought of my son and brother fighting is-_ ** ” He suddenly perked up. “ **_Someone’s here._ **”

“Someone?” Nero’s snicker died in his throat. “Who?” Vergil closed his eyes in thought before they snapped open. He suddenly shot up to his feet, running through the halls of the castle and leaving the damp curtain-blanket behind. Nero scrambled after his father. “HEY! WAIT FOR ME!” He yelled, dashing through the halls of Fortuna Castle after his father. He followed his father to the reception hall, skidding to a halt to not collide with his leg. 

Standing in the reception hall next to Dante, looking around, was his mother Cassandra. In her arms was the golem Nightmare, who was wiggling rather intently. Griffon had settled on Shadow’s back, both familiars also giving the reception hall a look around. Shadow let out a loud meow. 

“I know Kitty.” Griffon replied. “Place hasn’t changed since we were here.” 

“It just looks exactly as I remember it for our wedding.” Cassandra added, setting Nightmare on Shadow’s back. “Has it truly been untouched since that day?”

“Verg and I couldn’t bear to take it all down. It still hurt.” Dante explained. Nero could hear the pain in Dante’s voice. That day was still a very raw wound, even after all these years. “Add me being busy with ruling Fortuna and Vergil being Vergil and...well, we didn’t take anything down.” Nero looked to Vergil, who was just standing there.

“ **_As beautiful as the day I lost her…_ ** ” He murmured. “ **_She hasn’t changed at all._ **” Nero felt a little bit of relief that there was still very obvious love his father held for her. 

“Well, aren’t you going to talk to her?” Nero asked. If Vergil could pale with fright, Nero was pretty sure he would. As is, Vergil visibly stiffened at Nero’s question.

“ **_I cannot. I’m a monster-_ **”

“Look, she raised me for seventeen years. She accepted my arm. I’m sure she’ll accept you.” Vergil still obviously hesitated, causing Nero to frown. It was obvious that his parents would have to meet again, but he wasn’t going to let Vergil play hide and seek with his own wife! He himself already did enough of that emotionally with Kyrie (he hoped she was OK, back in Fortuna). 

Back to the subject at hand, Vergil's hesitation meant it was time for something more drastic. 

Nero stepped back before giving his father a hard shove with the spectral Devil Bringer. Vergil stumbled from the shove into the hall, barely able to catch himself. Nero ignored the sharp glare he got from his father. Dante snickered at the stumble, earning a jab in his ribs from Cassandra’s elbow. 

“Dante!”

“What? I didn’t do anything!” He laughed, rubbing his ribs. Cassandra rolled her eyes before walking up to Vergil. Vergil stood there, staring down at Cassandra. The eyes on his body were flicking everywhere, as if unable to stare directly at his fiancee. Vergil’s green eyes, however, stared directly at Cassandra. She reached out her hand, taking Vergil’s hand. Vergil’s eyes moved to her hand, to the golden signet ring on her ring finger.

“ **_You never took it off._ **”

“Of course not.” Cassandra seemed surprised at that. “I love you Vergil. I never stopped loving you.” She pressed her lips against his knuckles. Vergil took in a breath before kneeling down to get closer to her. His other hand pulled her close, letting out a relieved sigh followed by a sort of growling noise. The growl wasn’t threatening, considering Cassandra’s tearful smile. “I love you so much.”

“ **_I missed you dearly._ ** ” Vergil murmured. " **_I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe, That made my love so high and me so low._ **"

“Oh you were always so dramatic.” Cassandra huffed but no venom was in her voice. It seemed as if she was merely amused by it. “I’m here now. And I know my little lion’s hiding in the shadows.” She glanced over to her son with a knowing smirk. Nero rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he stepped out from the long shadows of the balconies overlooking the hall. Of course she _had_ to embarrass him in front of his father and uncle. He was certain Dante wasn’t going to let him live it down. “Come here.” Cassandra held out her arm, inviting him to a hug. Nero felt his eyes water as his feet bid him into his mother’s arms. He felt Cassandra wrap her arm around his body, Vergil wrapping his arms around them both. The cursed demon began to purr, as if happy and content that his family, _his wife and son_ , were in his arms protected from the world. Nero could _feel_ a sort of comfort that he could only find in his mother’s lullabies from his father’s purr. Perhaps, as his father was part demon, exacerbated by Louella’s curse, the demon blood in his veins was reacting to the purring. 

“We’re together…I’ve dreamed of this day for so long.” Cassandra murmured, lifting up her head to kiss Vergil’s forehead. 

“ **_I swear on the Yamato, I will not lose you.”_ ** Vergil murmured. **_“Nor will I ever let anyone take you from me._ **” Nero felt Vergil’s arms gently squeeze them, as if affirming that quiet warped promise to him and his mother. He was thankful Dante was keeping his mouth shut, letting the small family finally reunite and hold each other for the first time in seventeen years. 

Nero didn’t know how much time had passed, too content in the arms of his parents, but the sudden burst of the doors caught their attention. Nero jerked up, seeing a full-sized wyvern with a familiar red bow barrel through the door. Atop the wyvern’s back, a familiar face.

“Cordelia! Credo!” Nero yelped. Cassandra whipped around, watching as the wyvern, Cordelia, scrambled to her feet in front of Dante. Credo looked rather distressed, as if something terrible had just happened. His normally slicked back auburn hair was disheveled, as if he came in a panic.

“Lord Dante! Lord Paride, he’s got Kyrie, there’s a mob coming to the castle-”

“Woah woah woah!” Dante held up his hands. “Commander, you look like a mess.” Credo gave him a glare. “On the bright side, I’m glad to see Cordelia likes-”

“It’s an emergency, milord.” Credo snapped. “Queen Eva’s companion, Fury, was slain by Paride-” 

“He did _what_.” Dante’s voice was ice cold. “Tell me what happened. Now.” Credo nodded.

“As you wish, my lord.”


	10. A Monster Unleashed

_Earlier…_

Credo was quietly working on paperwork in the wee hours of the morning, the lamp glowing on his desk. By his side was a small tray of nuts and fruit, snacks to keep him awake. As he quietly worked away, the events of the tournament and the aftermath drifted to his mind. 

He vividly remembered the shock he felt, when the blood from the wound on Nero’s arm transformed into crimson scales, the wound itself replaced with an intense blue glow. As for Cordelia’s transformation into a full-scale wyvern to protect Dante, he had not seen such a transformation in his tenure as Supreme Commander of the Order. After a pursuit, with Nero flying with his mother’s familiar over the walls of Fortuna’s gate, he returned back to Dante. Dante called off the pursuit, telling him to go home with his sister. When he told the tale back to his father, Enrico seemed most interested in Cordelia’s transformation. He mentioned that it was something he saw only once when he was a new commander, but that was nearly twenty years ago. 

_‘Twenty years ago…’_ Credo thought. That was when Vergil still walked amongst the people of Fortuna, before the dreadful curse that split the twins apart. He was still very young then so he didn’t remember that time but he did read about the events. Back then, the rival kingdom of Mallet, led by King Mundus, launched an attack on Fortuna. From all the testimonies in the history books, King Sparda led the charge, flanked by his two sons and the Order. 

Credo stood, walking to the bookshelf to pick up a book of military history. He flipped through the pages of the book, finding the chapter on that specific battle. The chapter of that battle bore a beautiful rendition of a ruined port, their king armored in black (that looked a bit too...realistic to be merely metal? He squinted at the rendition), a prince in red and a prince in blue by his side, and a great wyvern flying above it all, bearing the banner of Fortuna. 

“Cordelia…” Credo murmured, his fingers grazing the paper. The printed piece of art depicted the black and white wyvern, a familiar pattern to the young man. The pattern of the very familiar that rarely, if ever, left Dante’s side and was oddly fond of him. He tilted his head a little, remembering that Cordelia had chosen to give him a nuzzle before Dante left to meet Lady Cassandra. He presumed she liked him so much because he gave her the meaty bits of his lunch when he was on his breaks (Dante insisted he take lunch and not overwork himself). 

A howl broke the silence of morning, ripping him out of his thoughts. That was odd, it was the dawning time. The howl was joined by more, a mourning howl. But why? The fact that it was one of grief made him deeply uneasy. He slammed the book back into the shelf and quickly stepped out of the office. A door opened, revealing a sleepy Kyrie in her nightgown.

“Credo? Is something the matter?” 

“Something’s come up.” 

“At this hour?” Kyrie asked, tilting her head. Credo frowned. 

“Yes.” He didn’t want to worry his sister. He went to his room to pick up his sword and his Ember, an enchanted lantern that could levitate and leave his hands free to fight. He noticed the Ember, a silver lantern decorated with curled vines and feather detail, was polished and full of oil made of demon fat. Kyrie always made sure his Ember was taken care of as he didn’t always take good care of it (much to Credo’s own personal shame). With a tap of his gloved hand, the Ember floated into the air, glowing brightly with golden flame burning bright inside. 

“Credo.” Credo glanced up to his sister, who was standing at the doorway of his bedroom. “Just be careful, OK?” Credo relaxed, walking over to his sister and pulling her into a hug. 

“I will. Just stay here, ok?” He said softly. Cecilia and Enrico were at the Lord’s Manor, taking care of the place in Dante’s absence at Lucia’s request. “I’ll be back here before you know it.” He pressed his lips against Kyrie’s forehead. Kyrie relaxed and nuzzled against his shoulder. 

“Alright.” The siblings remained there for a moment more before Credo pulled away. He slipped past his sister and down the stairs to the back of the bakery. Slipping out the back door, he made his way down the streets of Fortuna, lit by the light of the street lanterns, to Mitis Forest. 

The skies above were dark and cloudy, hinting heavily at an oncoming storm. The air felt damp with the rain that would come very soon. Credo tapped his lantern, letting it’s light shine brighter. As he passed by Cassandra and Nero’s cottage, he noticed the stables were empty. Altare and Alasdair were probably moved to the royal stables. He had heard that Cassandra, upon Dante’s request, was now residing with the House of Sparda. Altare and Alasdair were probably moved preemptively, as they were live animals that needed someone to care for them. Going past the cottage into the forest, the looming shadows of the trees made the already dark forest seem darker, more menacing. Long shadows loomed behind the trees, made so by the light of his Ember. As he walked through the forest, he could feel some sort of presence watching him. 

He pressed his hand on his Ember, causing the light to dim. It still hovered near him by its own power but it’s light was no brighter than a dying candle. His hand rested on the handle of his Durandal, pulling out the blade to protect himself: His instincts screamed that danger was nearby. 

A chorus of howls met him, he saw darkened bodies dash through the undergrowth of Mitis Forest. Credo knew very well, as the Supreme Commander, that the wolfpack of Mitis Forest was something not to mess with. Much less the demonic winged wolf Fury, the leader of the pack. Credo’s eyes flicked around, trying to keep tabs on the wolves that padded around him, trying to find which one was the eponymous Fury. The dark of the woods made the wolves blend together in size and color-

A sudden snarl caught his attention. A brown wolf bounced forward, growling to the others. The rest of the pack seemed to back down, as if heeding the order of the brown wolf. Credo slowly lowered his weapon, his guard still up in case the current peace was shattered by a demon or the wolves turning on him. The brown wolf began to nudge him forward, earning a surprised noise from the commander. Letting the wolf guide him, he was nudged into the forest until he came across a ghastly clearing.

The trees around the clearing were marred by fire and slashes, as if there had been a terrible and long fight between two opponents. The grass was stained black with blood. But what caught his attention was the loser of the battle: the bloodied and scarred and _headless_ body of the winged wolf, Fury. Credo carefully walked forward, his hands carefully resting on the body to inspect it. He noticed the beheading, at the base of the neck, was _too_ clean. Too practiced. As he continued to inspect the wolf’s corpse, no blood. Then whose blood was splattered all over the field? He dreaded to find out. His mind returned to the cut, wondering who would dare harm the demonic wolf? Was she not the familiar of the previous queen, Eva? She was charged with protecting the House of Sparda, something most nobles did know. 

A name came to mind. A name that sent shivers down his spine. The name of a man who did know and did not care, if the wolf’s still body was any indication: Paride Acardi.

He jumped up, sprinting out of the forest. He had to get to his sister, to Kyrie. Rain began to fall as he ran, panting heavily as his boots slammed against the dirt and wet grass. Panic hammered in his chest with his racing heart, threatening to burst out of his ribs.

_Not Kyrie, anyone but her!_

As his boots slammed against the grass, fading into cobblestone streets, the thunder roared above his head. His eyes widened in horror as he saw a mob around his family bakery. Walking away from the bakery was the mob’s leader, a familiar man bearing the wolf’s head on a pike. He could barely see Paride’s black hair, a crossbow and a heavily modified Durandal on his back. How dare he deface the familiar of Queen Eva! He knew better! His thoughts were silenced by a scream, the defiant scream of his sister. His blood ran cold at the sound, a sound that only came from his worst nightmares.

“KYRIE!” 

“CREDO!” He could barely see her auburn hair, a hand reaching out for him. “CREDO! WARN DANTE! THEY’RE GOING TO FORTUNA CASTLE!” Credo skidded to a stop, the mob too dangerous for him to dive in and take back his sister. They were common folk, riled up by Paride and whatever the hell he promised to them. He looked up, seeing a familiar wyvern wiggling intently. 

“Cordelia!” He called. The wyvern looked over to him, tilting her head. “Warn Lord Dante! Paride is on his way to Fortuna Castle with a mob! He has my sister as a hostage!” The wyvern tilted her head in the other direction before jumping down, suddenly growing in size. 

“ **_To Dante!_ **” She roared, grabbing the scruff of his coat with her jaw and throwing him in the air. He yelled in surprise before landing on Cordelia’s back. He wrapped his arms around her neck as she took flight. Cordelia flew low, Credo instinctively knowing what she was aiming for: the piked wolf head. He held his hand out. The moment his hand met fur, he gripped tightly. The head was pulled off the pike, earning roars of indignation from the mob. Cordelia flew high in the air, beyond the pikes and pitchforks. Credo looked at the head-

It was staring at him as if the wolf was still alive, fangs bared in a snarl. Cordelia began to chirp and make some noises to calm the head. Could his day get any more worse? Stranger? He wasn’t sure. He shuddered and held tightly onto Cordelia as she veered to the forest, ignoring the head in his hands. He looked over, watching as the clearing came into view. He tossed the head down, watching as it landed on the wolf’s body. With the head no longer in his head, he looked up to Fortuna Castle. Wiping the rain out of his eyes, determination was boiling in his blood, fueled by anger at Paride’s stupidly bold actions.

“Cordelia, quickly now!” He breathed out. Cordelia didn’t need to be told twice, soaring across the blackened skies to Fortuna Castle. 

* * *

“And that is the situation at hand, milord.” Credo finished. “I do not believe the gate will stop this mob. There’s the fact that my sister is being held hostage by Paride.” He said. During his retelling, he had dismounted from Cordelia. Cordelia was staring intently at the door, growling softly. 

“Well, first thing’s first.” Griffon swooped over to grab the glass rose. He fluttered over to Cassandra, placing it in her hand. “There. Secondly.” Griffon flew away from Cassandra to land on Shadow’s back. “Kitty, Nightmare, and I can scare the mob so silly they’ll run!” Credo stared at the golem, tilting his head a little.

“Are you referring to...the doll?” He asked. Griffon snickered. 

“Nightmare looks all cute and innocent as a little doll, but he can be real scary!” Griffon flared out his wings. 

“No hurting anyone.” Dante spoke up, voice firm. Nightmare and Cordelia looked at him. “The mob just sounds like a bunch of innocent townsfolk who got riled up by Paride.”

“I did not see signs of a group taking down Fury. It seemed as if only one man managed to fight and...harm the wolf.” Credo added. Dante walked over to Cordelia, huffing angrily at Dante’s order.

“Hey, magpie, I know you’re angry…” He murmured, gently taking her head and held her close to his chest, resting his forehead on hers. Cordelia let out an upset huff. “But I really mean it when I say don’t hurt the people. They’re just riled up by excitement and whatever Paride said. But you can ruffle them up, give em a scare, send them running, but you can’t hurt them.” Cordelia let out another upset huff. “If you see Kyrie in the ruckus, save her. OK? Get her somewhere safe and protected, alright?” Cordelia let out an affirmative chirp. Dante kissed her head before turning to Credo. “You’re with me. And you three.” He looked to Nero, Cassandra, and Vergil. “You find somewhere to hide until all this blows over.”

“ **_You expect me to cower while our father’s castle is invaded?_ ** ” Vergil growled. “ **_You are mis-_ **”

“Vergil.” Dante gave him a hard stare. “I failed you once. I’m not failing you again. Let me protect you properly this time, ok?” The two brothers stared at each other before, begrudgingly, Vergil looked away. Dante smiled. “Good. Hide in our dad’s room. Remember the closet where we hid when we were kids?”

“ **_It will be a tight fit._ **” Vergil huffed, almost sarcastically. Dante let out a laugh.

“Maybe! But you three should go. Now.” Dante pulled his sword, Rebellion, off his back. “It’s gonna get real messy soon.” Nero bristled at that, reaching back to grab Red Queen.

"Like hell I'm going to stay beh-"

“Nero. I know you want to save Kyrie.” Cassandra spoke up. "But i’m not losing you to an angry mob of people. The field of battle is already going to be busy enough with the familiars, your uncle, and Credo." She took his hands as Vergil, begrudgingly, began to walk away. "I know they'll save her. Credo's just as protective of her as you are."

"But-"

"No buts." Cassandra said with a hint of finality. She turned to Dante and Credo. “Dante. Credo. You two need to be careful. Please. I don’t know what tricks Paride will have up his sleeve. What I do know, based on what I’ve heard, is that he’s ruthless. If he slew Fury...” 

“I know. I know.” Dante nodded. “I got you. I’m not gonna underestimate him. And I got the chicken, the cat, and a big pile of goo to help me.”

“HEY! I AM NOT A CHICKEN!” Griffon roared, his feathers blazing with electricity. Cordelia let out a whine. 

“Oh, and my most favorite familiar ever.” Dante hummed. Cordelia beamed at that. Credo raised an eyebrow.

“Is she not your only familiar?” He asked. 

“Exactly. Which is why she’s my favorite.” Dante said. “Why would I have any others if only one’s my favorite?”

“I suppose there’s a logic to that…” Credo admitted. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Cordelia’s body pulsated with strange arcane runes. He raised an eyebrow. “So...my father’s tale was true.”

“What made you think it wasn’t?”

“There’s a print of the painting depicting Mallet’s attack on Fortuna.” Credo explained, tightening his grip on his Durandal. “The artist didn’t paint the runes. Unless they were painting from memory.” 

“Probably from memory.” Dante said. He reached over to firmly squeeze Credo’s shoulder. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, milord.” 

“Good. ‘Cause it’s about to get crazy.”


	11. The Battle of Fortuna Castle

Paride led the mob up the path to Fortuna Castle, only one goal in mind: slay the Monster of Fortuna Castle and present the beast’s head to Credo. The death of the demon that loomed over the Castle Town would be the perfect dowry to the Commander. The rain poured down upon him and his mob, Kyrie in tow. She would be a witness to the death of the demon so that not even the Commander would deny him his wife.

If only she would just stop squirming!

“Let me go Paride! Let me go!” She yelled, trying to pull herself away from Paride. “I don’t want to watch a murder!”

“You mean my glorious triumph?!” He snapped.

“NO!” She yelled. “It’s nothing more than a murder, you monster!” That incensed the noble. 

“It sounds like you have feelings for this monster.” He sneered. The mob rumbled dangerously at that. Kyrie scowled. 

“The real monster is you, Paride.” She whispered, finally managing to tear her arm out of Paride’s grasp. Paride turned to the door and held aloft the bloodied pike.

“CHARGE!” He roared. The mob surged forward, the doors unable to hold against the sudden surge of manpower. They burst open, slamming hard against the walls as the hall suddenly filled with the light of the mid-afternoon storm. 

With a flash of lightning, the mob was met with something they could never dream of: a looming golem, made of some sort of demonic ichor, a single purple orb as it’s eye, staring down at them. Hovering above was a demonic vulture, wings aglow with demonic power. Prowling at the nightmare’s feet was a growling demonic panther and an angry chittering wyvern, seemingly only held back by Dante’s sword in front of her. Credo was expressionless, aside from the occasional flicker of his eyes, a general’s assessment of the enemy.

“ **_Leave now or else you face our wrath!_ **” Cordelia roared, flaring up her demonic rune markings to flash a burning red.

“I’d listen to her if I were you.” Dante warned. Paride glowered at the group before them.

“Double what I claimed for anyone who brings me their heads!” He roared to the mob. They let out a roar at that. Dante rolled his eyes. 

“Go get ‘em girl!” Dante lifted up his sword. Cordelia screeched out a war cry, flaring herself up and barreled herself into the group angrily. The mob split, pouring into the castle from shock. As she barreled through the mob, Kyrie leapt up onto Cordelia’s back. Feeling the weight, she quickly took off, screeching in victory with Kyrie on her back. As she flew into the black storm clouds, Nightmare’s orb began to glow an intense purple. A massive lazer suddenly fired over the heads of the townsfolk. Terrified of the power, they scrambled down the mountain path, away from the castle screaming. Griffon laughed as he flew above those that lagged behind, lobbing lightning bolts over their heads.

“COWARDS! WIMPS! BITCHES! AHAHAHA!” 

“I believe that bird is enjoying himself too much.” Credo mused. “But this battle cannot be over yet.”

“What makes you say that?” Dante asked, assessing what damage had been done. Credo followed him to the door, stopping at a broken pike with a bloodied tip.

“I did not see Paride amongst those that escaped with the mob.” Credo said. “But the pike to lead them is still here.” He glanced up to Dante. “It would seem that Paride only used the mob to cover his entrance into Fortuna Castle. Now that the mob has been chased away…” Dante seemed to pale at that. He whipped around, away from the door. 

“Shadow! Griffon!” He barked. 

“What’s up, your highness?”

“Search every corner of the castle. This isn’t over.” Dante snapped. Credo could easily see the worry in his lord. Dante walked to Nightmare, the familiar back in his doll form, exhausted from using his power. “Credo, you too. Don’t engage him, if you can help it. Just find him and come find me.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Credo bowed. “My lord?”

“Yeah?”

“Where would Cordelia have taken my sister?” He asked. Dante let out a sigh.

“If I had to guess, the bakery. Barring that, my place. She’s in safe hands regardless.” Dante saw the relief in Credo’s face.

“Thank you.” He bowed again and dashed off through a door. Dante let out a slow exhale, trying to control his inner devil as he heard more doors slam, Griffon and Shadow both looking for Paride. He looked to Nightmare, who was staring at him.

“Hey, you can help too. I know you can turn into a puddle and...you know, schmooze around.” He said, trying to put a little levity into the situation. The golem wiggled before turning into a puddle, darting off in the darkness under the cracks of another door. With a sigh, he tightened his grip on Rebellion and dashed off to aid in the search.

He was going to protect his brother. He wasn’t going to lose him again.

* * *

Nero sat in the bedroom, staring out the window. As much as he wanted to have faith that his uncle and Credo could stop the angry mob, something nagged him. For one thing, Kyrie was Paride’s hostage and he wanted to go save her. His arm was aching for Paride’s blood, his inner devil demanding to get out into the storm, find Paride, and make him pay for taking Kyrie as a hostage. It was only with his mother’s insistence, the only person who could convince him to stay behind, that he was here. 

_‘Nero, I’m not losing you to an angry mob of people. The field of battle is already going to be busy enough with the familiars, your uncle, and Credo.’_ His mother had said. _‘Please, just...stay with Vergil and I.’_ He scowled at the memory. As much as a mess that the battlefield would be against a mob, it was still Kyrie. He had to go save her-

The door suddenly opened. Nero glanced up, watching as Kyrie stepped off Cordelia’s back. Nero let out a sigh of relief and jumped up to hug her. He glanced up, watching Cordelia fly away from the door before he felt Kyrie cling onto him

“Oh, Nero...” Kyrie sighed. Nero buried his face into her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help save you-”

“It’s fine.” Kyrie pulled back, pulling wet auburn hair out of her eyes. “Cordelia was heading back to Fortuna but...I told her I felt safer with you.” Nero blushed a little. 

“Well, uh, since we’re here...I guess that means the mob’s been dealt with.” Nero looked to his parents, Cassandra on the bed and Vergil sitting next to her. “I guess now’s the best time to meet my dad-” A crossbow bolt suddenly shattered the window, nicking his shoulder. Kyrie let out a scream of surprise. Nero looked up, eyes narrowed.

Paride.

“Kyrie. Stay inside. I’m gonna take care of this bastard.” Nero growled, his voice warping just so slightly from how angry he was. Kyrie nodded, stepping away from the windows. He looked to Vergil and Cassandra, Vergil holding his wife in his arms and growling softly. “Dad, I’m gonna go handle this.” Nero said before stepping out the open door. He closed the door behind him and glared down at Paride, black hair clinging to his face.

“There you are...” Paride hissed. Nero growled.

“Leave Kyrie out of this. This is our fight-” Paride fired another crossbow bolt. Nero deflected it with Red Queen. Well, if he was going to play like that...Nero charged forward down the stairs, Red Queen meeting Paride’s quickly pulled out Durandal. He quickly noticed two things: that Paride was actually more skilled than he expected and that this particular Durandal had a serrated edge. Both did not bode well for him. He made a mental note to keep away from the serrated Durandal. 

Paride slashed at Nero, blocked by Red Queen. Nero charged forward, slamming Paride against the fountain and breaking his crossbow. Nero smirked at the wood pieces that fell into the water before Paride pushed him back. He ran forward to impale the serrated Durandal into the ground, only for Nero to roll away in the nick of time. The serrated Durandal now in the ground, Nero let out a slow exhale.

“How dare you, you bastard!” Paride snarled, eyes full of hatred as he yanked the blade out of the stone. “Why won’t you just die!?” He tried to slash forward, only for Nero to dodge out of the way.

“That requires you to hit me first.” Nero panted with a cocky grin. “Just give up. You killed the last queen’s familiar and kidnapped Kyrie, you’ll be lucky if you get exile-”

“KYRIE IS MINE!” Paride roared, rushing forward. Nero barely dodged out of the way, skidding against wet stone floors. He glanced back, finding himself near the overlook, below them being nothing more than fog-covered abyss. He looked back, watching as Paride charged forward to push him off, Durandal forgotten on the wet ground. Nero grabbed Paride with his Devil Bringer by his coat and hovered him over the cliff. Paride looked down and let out a panicked yelp, writhing in Nero’s Devil Bringer.

_‘Let him fall, just drop him, it would be so easy.’_ His demonic blood whispered in his ear. _‘He hurt Kyrie, he’ll hurt everyone you love, just let him go.’_ Nero knew he could just let him go, claim that Paride fell to his death, but Paride’s fate was not in his hands to decide. He may be a prince but the fate of Fortuna’s criminals did not rest on him. That rested on Dante. 

He slowly stepped back, bringing a whimpering Paride back to solid ground.

“Go beg for your life to Dante.” He whispered before tossing him to the ground. He walked away from Paride, clipping Red Queen onto his back with a special clip in his jacket. He looked up, seeing his father had stepped out of the bedroom. Perhaps he was there to protect Cassandra and Kyrie for him while he took care of Paride. Nero smiled a little, running a hand through his rain-soaked hair. 

He heard footsteps and glanced back, watching as Paride ran after him. He reached up to grab Red Queen-

“ **_NERO!_ **” 

Suddenly, his father was in front of him, throwing himself between him and Paride. He could only watch in horror as the Durandal found it’s mark in his father’s chest. He could smell blood, overwhelming the rain around them. 

“DAD!” Nero cried, his Devil Bringer flaring to life. As Paride let out a laugh over his victory, the bloodied Durandal in his hand, the Devil Bringer grabbed his front and threw him as hard as he could. Paride screamed as he soared, falling over the edge into the dark abyss and taking his weapon with him into the darkness. Nero panted at what he had done before his father groaned. Nero scrambled down to his father’s side, staring at the wound. 

“ **_Hahh...Nero…_ ** ” His father was straining to speak. Nero looked to his father and then back to the wound. Why wasn’t it healing!? Why wasn’t it closing up and going back to normal!? “ **_Curse this...poison…_ **” A poison? He let out a worried noise.

“I’ll get Mom-” Nero tried to get up but Vergil stopped him, grabbing his hand.  
  


“ **_Don’t leave. I…_ ** ” He heard a soft keening whine from the demon. “ **_Nero, you’ve grown into a fine young man…_ **” 

“Don’t say that!” Nero snarled. “I’m not going to lose you!” He just found out he had a father in the first place! And already, his father was dying in his arms and he couldn’t do anything to save him. “Dad, please, just stay with me, we’ll find a cure, I know we will.” Vergil carefully reached up, cupping his son’s face. 

“ **_I’m...glad I got to see you, at least once…_ ** ” He murmured. “ **_I love you._ **” Nero could only watch in horror as the hand fell limp to the ground, his father’s green eyes closing.

“DAD!” Nero screamed. “DAD, NO! PLEASE!” He wailed, falling down over his father’s body. He could feel tears streaming down his face. “Don’t leave me! Please, don’t leave me behind…” He sobbed. He had only known his father for what, a day? Two at most? And already, he was gone. It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair to his mother, it wasn’t fair to Dante, it wasn’t fair to his parents, it wasn’t fair to _his own son_!

And all he could do was cry. 

Something shifted underneath him, perhaps his body was slipping down the wet stairs. He clung tighter onto him, still sobbing into his shoulder. He felt his body continue to shift, finally causing him to look up. It seemed as if the body of the demon he knew as his father had hardened into a sort of statue. But there were obvious cracks in the statue, waiting to be pulled off. He looked down, already watching as some of the ‘stone’ was falling away from the rain. Nero stared in shock before he heard a soft noise from within. In a panic, his trembling hands began to pull the ‘stone’ off. As he pulled it off, he spotted snow white hair (just like his) and worn grey clothes that looked too nice to be everyday wear. The man began to move, slowly sitting up, the ‘stone crumbling as he moved. His eyes opened, revealing a familiar pair of blue.

Just like his. 

“Nero…” The man murmured. Nero could only stare, his snow white hair damp from the lightening rainstorm. He looked almost like...well, himself, except a lot older. He felt his father rest his hand on his cheek, his face becoming more wistful. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing he was. 

“Dad...are...are you really here?” Nero whispered. Just the moment before, the demon he knew as his father died in his arms. Before he could respond, a cry caught their attention.

“VERGIL!” The two looked up, watching as Cassandra sprinted down the wet stairs to collide into Vergil. “Vergil, you...you!” 

“I’m here.” Vergil wrapped an arm around her. Cassandra clung onto him, sobbing happily into his shoulder. Nero leaned onto his father, letting his other arm wrap around him. “I’m here. The curse is broken.” He murmured, voice breaking a little as Nero felt hot tears fall onto him. “And I will not lose you two again. I swear it.”


	12. Morning Sun

Nero didn’t know when he fell asleep. Perhaps all the excitement of the battle had tired him out. When his eyes fluttered open, he found himself surrounded by warmth. The morning light peered into the bedroom, a bedroom he did not recognize. He slowly sat up and looked around.

The bedroom he was in was more regal than he expected. It was no bedroom at the cottage, the comfy and small bed that he had shared with his mother for about half of his life. This was a bedroom for a king-

A king. Royalty. Like he technically was. 

Memories rushed in his head: the fight against Paride, his father dying in his arms, pulling away stone to find his father, alive and well and notably not cursed, tears from his parents reunited at last, the relief on Dante’s face when he saw his brother that wasn’t the twisted form of a demon. Yesterday was a long tiring day, tiring enough that nobody bothered to change into night clothes, they just all flopped into bed and went right to sleep. 

He turned around, seeing his parents fast asleep. Now that he had pulled himself up, the two instinctively cuddled up to each other, as if they belonged in each other’s arms. Sleepy smiles graced their faces, as if years of hardship were long forgotten for this moment. Nero glanced around once more, not seeing Griffon or Shadow around. Perhaps they awoke earlier and left to go somewhere else, to leave the happy family asleep in the morning sun. 

Nero carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to awaken his parents. He saw his mother shift in her slumber, moving closer to Vergil. He heard a very soft purr from Vergil, perhaps from his demonic blood? A part of him felt the need to get out of the bedroom while he still had the chance. He promptly stepped out of the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

Running a hand through his silver hair, Nero walked down the hallway aimlessly. He had a pretty good idea where he was: The Lord’s Manor in Fortuna, away from Fortuna Castle (he figured his father would never go back there again, having been his prison for seventeen long lonely years). It didn’t change the fact that he had absolutely no idea how the place was laid out, much less where to go find breakfast. As he meandered down the hallways, he faintly heard someone talking to someone else. He followed the voices before finding himself in the garden.

“Who’s a good wolf? That’s you, you’re a good wolf!” It was a woman’s voice now. Nero followed her voice until she found an older woman in red, a black shawl wrapped around her arms. Nero immediately noticed how regal she seemed. She was busy pampering a familiar winged wolf, who was happily leaning into her arms. Nero could only stare, confused as to who the woman was and why the winged wolf was alive when Credo said that they were beheaded. The wolf glanced up, followed by the woman’s gaze. 

Nero suddenly realized that this woman looked familiar for a reason: This woman was the former Queen Eva, _his grandmother_. Immediately, he felt awkward and stepped back.

“Uh...sorry.” He looked away.

“No, don’t be.” The woman replied. “Ever since I arrived, I’ve been eager to meet my elusive grandson.” Nero chuckled awkwardly.

“Yeah...elusive, I guess…” He noticed Eva was staring at his face. “Something on my face?”

“No, you just have your mother’s smile.” She paused. “And your father’s dimples, I see.” Nero blinked.

“I...thank you?” He felt even more awkward now! What was he supposed to say to his grandmother?! He heard the padding of paws and looked down, seeing Fury nuzzling his arm. Nero began to pet her. “I thought she was dead.”

“No, she’s more resilient than that. It takes more than a Durandal severing her head from her body to take her down.” Eva said fondly, her hand gently stroking Fury’s fur. “The man who did it is currently her pack’s chew toy.” Nero made a face, feeling a bit sick at the thought of Paride’s bones being chewed on by the pack.

“...gross.” 

“My apologies.” Eva sighed. “Fury and the pack are not forgiving to those who disrespect them.” She gently papped Fury’s head, watching as the wolf ran off and took flight. When she was a dot in the sky, Eva turned her gaze back to Nero. “How does breakfast sound?” 

“I’d...like that.” Nero nodded slowly. Eva smiled to Nero and began to walk back inside, Nero following her. As they walked, Eva suddenly paused and glanced up, as if hearing something that Nero couldn’t. “What is it?”

“...I don’t think your parents will be joining us for breakfast.” She said before continuing on.

“What do you mean?” Nero asked. 

“They’re busy.” Eva said with a sort of finality that told Nero not to inquire any further. As she led him to the kitchen, Nero finally caught what she meant and _immediately_ wished he didn’t know. 

When Nero and Eva entered the kitchen, Nero was surprised at how modern the kitchen was. Compared to his mother’s old and hand-me-down appliances at the cottage, he felt out of place. At the island in the center of the kitchen were the familiars Cordelia and Griffon, with Shadow prowling and meowing beneath them.

“Sorry Kitty, if you had wings, you could’ve sat with the cool familiars- OW! FUCKER!” Griffon squawked as Shadow bit down on his tail feathers and pulled him down to the tile. Cordelia was giggling at Griffon from up on the counter. “FUCKING HELL THAT HURT!” 

“Cordelia, giggling at pain is rude.” Eva said patiently as she looked through the pantry. “Shadow dear, you know it’s not nice to pull on Griffon’s feathers and Griffon, you know better than to taunt.”

“Yes Eva…” Griffon grumbled, flapping up onto the counter. Nero watched as she pulled out various ingredients. Nero quickly realized she was baking pancakes, causing him to perk up. Griffon leaned over to Nero. “Betcha she doesn’t make ‘em like the Elesions do.”

“Shh!” Nero hissed. “We don’t know that!” Eva merely chuckled as she baked the pancakes for breakfast. Griffon fluffed up his feathers.

“It’s nice to have Eva back.” Griffon hummed. “If only just to see Sparda and Dante duke it out.” Nero glanced wide-eyed to Griffon.

“Sparda’s here?” He asked. 

“Yeah, he’s dying to meet you!” Griffon laughed. “But you and your parents were busy napping so he’s been duking it out with Dante since.” He perked up at the smell of warm pancakes being served. “Oooooh, I think we’ll be seeing him s-” Griffon was interrupted by a pair of running feet. Dante and Sparda burst into the kitchen.

“EVA!”

“MOM!” 

“Boys!” Eva sighed, giving the two a look. “They’re not ready yet. And Nero is going to be served first since he was here first. And waited patiently for his breakfast.” Nero felt all eyes on him and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. Obviously Sparda moved because Eva spoke again. “Sparda, be gentle with our grandson.”

“But...our grandson-”

“I know dear, but you often get too exuberant when meeting new people.” Eva said patiently. When Nero looked back, Sparda was walking (with a noted carefulness, as if he was trying very hard to follow his wife’s advice) towards him. He noticed the signature white hair and blue eyes of his father and uncle, perhaps the demon blood of Sparda overpowered Eva’s human blood? 

“You look more like my daughter-in-law than my son.” He said with a note of pride in his voice. Nero blinked.

“I do?” Sparda nodded at Nero’s question. “I...man, talk about throwing Dad under the bus…”

“I love Vergil!” Sparda exclaimed out of shock. “It’s just you look more like your mother. You did inherit his hair and eyes though.” He looked around. “Where are they anyway?”

“ _Busy._ ” Eva said with a particular emphasis on the word. Sparda and Dante looked at each other with a sudden understanding. Eva served Nero his plate of pancakes, prompting the young man to begin eating eagerly. Nero could feel Sparda’s eyes resting on his Devil Bringer, the arm tingling intensely in his grandfather’s presence. Instinctively, he hid his Devil Bringer, looking away from Sparda. He heard Sparda take the seat next to him. Nero scooted away from Sparda.

“May I see your arm?” He asked, in a rather tender voice. Nero tried to lean away from Sparda. He _just_ met him after all, despite the blood they shared. Sparda wasn’t his mother, who accepted it the moment she saw it. Sparda looked to Eva, who noticed Nero’s aversion, before he scooted away from Nero to give him space. “Can you hold it up and...erm...twist it in the light?” Nero’s eyes flicked to Sparda, his arm, and then back to a patient and empathetic Sparda before carefully holding his arm up. Sparda’s eyes widened as Nero carefully twisted his arm, taking every detail of the Devil Bringer. 

“...well?” 

“How old are you?” Sparda asked.

“Seventeen.” 

“Seventeen?” The older devil blinked. “You Triggered late. My boys first triggered when they were…”  
  


“Twelve.” Eva finished his sentence. 

“And it’s incomplete too…” Sparda murmured. “How did your Devil Bringer come to be?” 

“...I fought in a tournament at the Festival of the Blade. My enemy cheated-” He noticed Sparda scowl at that. “-and cut my arm. I got so angry that I saw red. I grabbed him and threw him so hard I broke his wrist.”

“Good.” Sparda said with a deadly calm that made Nero take back his Devil Bringer. Sparda noticed and let out an awkward noise. “Ah...I’m not fond of those who cheat. Especially in tournaments. I’m sorry for startling you.” 

“...it’s fine.” Nero nodded. “What did you mean by ‘it’s incomplete’?” 

“I...think that’s a result of your upbringing. I imagine you weren’t brought up with much demonic energy so you didn’t have enough to fully Trigger like my boys can. But it’s…” Sparda paused, trying to think of a good, not creepy, metaphor. “It’s like a puppy with oversized ears. You’ll grow into your complete Trigger someday.” He grinned at his grandson. “And I’ll help in whatever way I can. I swear it.” 

“Be careful what you swear on.” Eva reminded him. “And don’t run off to make a Devil Arm for him.” 

“But darling!” Sparda whined ( _whined!_ ).

“You need to eat food first before you go off making Devil Arms for your grandson.” She turned and slid to him a plate of freshly baked pancakes.

“Pancakes!” Sparda said cheerfully, (thankfully) changing the subject. While the demon ate his pancakes happily, Dante let out a huff.

“Mooom, I’m hungry too! I was in a very important meeting with Credo before you arrived!”

“Wait, Credo was here?” Nero asked, perking up. “I thought he went back home with Kyrie?” Dante paled.

“Uh...yeah...he...he did do that…” Dante said awkwardly. 

“I flew him over here early this morning!” Cordelia chirped excitedly. “He screamed when I surprised him at the front door.” Nero snickered at the thought, watching as his grandmother handed his uncle the next plate of pancakes. A warm fuzzy feeling began to bloom in his chest as he watched, a familiar feeling when he was surrounded by family. Before, his family was his mother and the familiars in a tiny cottage, saving every penny they could. Now? As royalty? 

He was grateful to know that that very feeling remained just as strong, surrounded by his grandparents, an eccentric uncle, a bunch of rowdy familiars, his beloved mother, and the father he never knew he had. He was happy.


	13. Winter Turns To Spring

_One month later..._

Nero adjusted his tie as he watched his parents glide across the floor in an elegant waltz. He hadn’t dressed up this fancy ever since Cecilia and Enrico (currently watching the happy couple dance tearfully) renewed their wedding vows. Just thirty minutes ago, he watched his parents get married properly (in Cassandra’s words) in front of many of the nobles of Fortuna. Dante couldn’t stop crying in joy the entire ceremony...and neither could Nero’s grandfather, Sparda. A noble house of particular note was House Acardi, in shambles and disgrace from Paride’s actions. His father, Dren, lost much of his wealth and status as punishment for his son’s crimes. With House Acardi effectively demolished in Fortuna and Dren in exile (having voluntarily left the island nation in shame), Nero could relax easily. 

“Nero?” Kyrie’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked over, smiling a little.

“Kyrie, I-” He paused, looking up and down at her dress. “You look beautiful.” He said. Her cream dress flared out, he could faintly see golden sparkles in the fabric. Her hair was tied up into a bun. Around her neck, much to his joy, was the necklace he got her for the festival. Kyrie giggled, clasping her hands together.

“Thank you, Nero.” She looked to Cassandra and Vergil. “They look so happy together. It’s almost like those happy endings you find in fairy tales.” 

“Yeah, Dante was crying his heart out during the ceremony. And Sparda…” Nero let out an exhale. “I still can’t believe he’s my grandfather and the former king of Fortuna.” 

“Why’s that?” Kyrie asked.

“Well, you know how all the paintings of him have him look all regal and...I dunno, kingly?” Nero glanced over to Sparda, who was busy trying not to cry...again. “And instead I end up with...uh...an overtly doting grandpa.” He said awkwardly. “I mean, not that I don’t dislike him or anything! The paintings just make him look all regal and stuff-” Kyrie just laughed.

“Nero, it’s fine.” Kyrie soothed, leaning against Nero. Nero blushed an intense red, averting his eyes to his parents. They looked as if they were just dancing in their own little world, Vergil in a cream-hued suit while Cassandra wore a deep azure reception dress. Cassandra’s dress clung to her figure, flaring out from the knee. He remembered the wedding dress she wore, the same but in gold instead of the traditional white. His mother always eschewed tradition, if Dante and Vergil’s stories about the past were anything to go by. Speaking of Dante...his eyes scanned the crowd, noticing that Dante was not in the crowd. “Where’s Dante?”

“With my brother, in the garden.” Kyrie said simply. “I wouldn’t suggest finding them though.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Her lips curled into a devious smile. “It seems my brother and the former regent lord of Fortuna have feelings for each other.” Nero blinked. “In hindsight, I should have noticed when Dante called for my brother’s aid early in the morning after he stepped down from the position of regent lord. Now that Dante no longer rules Fortuna, I wondered why he would require my brother’s aid for the longest time.” She paused. “Until today.” 

“I...I didn’t know.” 

“Neither did I. Credo’s always been like that, private and closed off, even to me.” Kyrie sighed. “But he’s happy. And that’s all a sister could want for her brother, right?”

“Yeah...I guess.” Nero nodded in agreement, more focused on his parents in the moment. He wondered if Dante felt the same way about Vergil, wanting his brother’s happiness above all else. He wondered what Dante must have felt, watching his brother sit in misery and sorrow inside a home that was turned into a prison. Kyrie leaned against him quietly. Nero glanced down to her, staring at her for a few moments. He took in a breath, trying to scrounge up the courage to ask her a very important question. “Um...Kyrie?” 

“Yes Nero?”

“I was wondering...um…” He frowned. “What is the dowry? For courting you?” He asked awkwardly. Kyrie stared at him before giggling.

“Nero, there is no dowry. Credo made it up to keep the nobles away from me until _I_ chose the man I want to date. And I want to be with you, Nero.” She winked at him. “Free of charge.” 

“I...Kyrie, I don’t know what to say…”

“Dance with me?” 

“Huh?”  
  


“Nero, will you dance with me?” Kyrie asked, taking his hands. He looked to his waltzing parents before back to her. 

“But I wasn’t taught how to dance.” He said nervously. “I’ll just step on your feet.” 

“It’s ok. My feet will be just fine.” She began to pull him onto the dance floor, guiding Nero’s hand to rest on her hip. Her other hand took his and held it out casually, easing him in the pose of a waltz. “Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine.” Nero swallowed and nodded, letting Kyrie lead him into a waltz. As they danced, he found himself eased into the motions. Thankfully, it seemed that Kyrie opted for a slow pace for him. She slowly laid her head down on his chest. He felt a purr form in his chest. Kyrie giggled and glanced up to him, mirth glimmering in her eyes. “Cute.”

“Me? Cute?” Nero frowned. “No I’m not.” Kyrie laughed and pecked his lips. Nero blushed a deep red.

“Are too.” She teased. Nero looked away, earning a gentle laugh from her. She pulled his Devil Bringer to her lips, kissing his scaled knuckles. “And I love it. As much as I love you.” Nero could feel his brain short-circuit at the admission of love. 

“Kyrie...you could have your choice of anyone in Fortuna-”

“I know. And I want you. No matter if you’re a prince or a pauper. Even if you weren’t related to Lord Vergil, I would love you and want no other. Because I love you for _you_ , Nero.” Kyrie said. Nero stared at her before pulling her in for a tight hug.

“Kyrie…” He murmured. “I love you so much.” He murmured. “You’re the sweetest, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Just by being you, Nero.” Kyrie pointed out gently. “And that’s what I love about you.” Nero nodded. The two glanced up, seeing that Vergil and Cassandra had moved to partake in one of the two humble wedding cakes. “Come on, let’s have some cake.” Nero nodded.

“I’m glad Dante’s not here to slam his brother’s face into the cake.” No sooner than Nero spoke, Dante sprinted in from the garden and slammed his brother’s face into one of the cakes. Vergil pulled his face out of the cake, angrily sprinting after his cackling brother. Kyrie began to laugh at the comical situation while Nero merely let out a sigh. “Me and my big mouth.” 

“It’s alright. At least it’s just one of the cakes.” Kyrie said through her laughter. “Do you still want cake?”

“Yes. And I won’t ruin your dress by causing a food fight. I’ll leave that to Dante and Vergil.” Nero said. He saw Sparda chase after his sons, taking the ruined cake with him. “...and my own grandfather.” Nero sighed. Kyrie merely giggled as she led him to the cake table, where Cassandra and Eva were already cutting up the remaining cake to serve.


	14. Extra 1 - Nero's First Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Nero’s first Christmas with his whole family, eighteen years in the making. 
> 
> For Into the Spardaverse, inspired by LadyMuzzMuzz's [Gift From The Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287381)

“Hey! Hey! Kiddo! Wake up!” Nero groaned at Griffon’s screeching. It was way too early to wake up.

“Shut uupp…” He tried to whap the bird away with his Devil Bringer, only to miss. He was too tired to care about missing. He felt the covers being pulled away and whined loudly, curling up. 

“Shit! Shadow, cover him up!” Griffon squawked. “Fuck, you’re just like your dad. You are so not getting presents!” Nero glanced to the avian familiar.

“Presents?” He mumbled. Then it hit him: Today was Christmas. He sat up, running a hand through his messy silver hair. 

“Uh, yeah, presents, you idiot.” Griffon huffed. Nero noticed his fancy new striped tie on his chest. Shadow let out a rumble of agreement. “And you got A. Lot. of presents. Stuff from your uncle, from your grandparents, from your actual parents, Kyrie-” 

That was what got him up. 

Nero quickly threw on some clothes, a loose button-up shirt and pants before darting down the stairs. The estate was decorated in holly and golden tinsel, he remembered being dragged into helping decorate by a very enthusiastic uncle and grandfather. While he was more eager to help his grandfather, he wasn’t above leaving Dante high and dry (or, as he remembered, hanging from the railing and flailing helplessly until Sparda caught him). Eva did scold the two for roughhousing afterward. 

As he strode down the stairs, he blinked to see the entire family there. Eva and Sparda were nestled on the couch. Sitting on a plush armchair was Dante, who glanced up to see Nero walking down the stairs. The scent of pancakes wafted through the room, perhaps his parents were in the kitchen making breakfast. 

  
  


“Mornin’ kid!” Dante waved at Nero, a wide smile on his face. “Cass and Verge are just finishing up breakfast. You’ve arrived just in time to open up presents.” He pointed to a small pile of gifts and a stocking full of smaller gifts. “All that is for you.”

“For me?” Nero asked, staring at the pile. He remembered previous Christmas Days in that tiny cottage, where his mother endeavoured to make those special days as festive as they could. Even still, Nero had to make do with far less presents than some of his peers. He distinctly remembered, in his childhood, jealousy at those who could afford extravagant presents. Now, sitting in front of him, was the pile of presents that he only  _ dreamed of _ as a young boy. He awkwardly walked down the stairs and made room to settle on a plush chair before Dante tsked at him. 

“Come on, kids sit on the floor.” 

“I’m not a kid.” Nero huffed. 

“But don’t you wish to be closer to your presents?” Eva asked patiently. Nero looked to them before slowly sliding to the floor. Shadow walked over to Nero and plopped down on his lap, purring loudly. Nero smiled, a hand stroking her fur. He looked back to the presents before him. He wasn’t sure who brought who or how much. Perhaps his mother mentioned their previous Christmas Days in the cottage, the poverty they endured. He frowned at the thought. His mother wouldn’t mention such a thing during the festive season, it would seem selfish. She probably would’ve merely mentioned that he never had many presents for the season. 

“Nero!” His mother’s voice made him turn around, watching as she entered with a plate of pancakes in her hand. She placed them on a side table as Vergil followed her to the other loveseat. “Did you wait for us?”

“Not really.” Nero admitted. “I just woke up.” 

“Sleepyhead.” Griffon huffed from his place on Eva’s lap, getting his feathers stroked. Cassandra chuckled and sat next to Vergil. 

“Start with the stocking.” Cassandra advised her son. Nero looked to the stocking before his Devil Bringer glowed. A spectral hand took the stocking delicately off where it was hanging and let it land in his lap. As he looked through the stocking, he found small sweets, chapstick (not sure when he would need that, but he wasn’t going to complain), gum, pencils and pens, and a notepad. 

He suddenly felt the expectation of a thank you, even if he didn't quite get these smaller gifts. 

"Thank you."

"Kid, open my present!" Dante said with a childlike eagerness.

"I believe he should open our father's-" 

"Both of you!" Cassandra snapped at the twins. "Nero can decide who's present he'll open first." Faintly, he heard his grandfather snort before a soft whine from Eva elbowing him. Nero's gaze moved to the pile before he picked up a thin present, from his mother. He carefully opened it, revealing a copy of his birth certificate. He blinked in confusion before he realized something about the document.

Where Father was, a once empty void, was filled in by the name Vergil Sparda. 

Nero looked back to his father, who was blushing from being flustered. “I...I wanted to show you earlier but it was caught up in all the paperwork from my return.” He admitted. Nero carefully placed the copy aside before getting up to hug his parents. Vergil stiffened from the contact before being eased into embracing his son back. 

  
Best Christmas  _ ever _ .


End file.
